The Breakfast Club
by DJRabidPunk
Summary: Five strangers meet in detention, and learn things about each other and themselves that they never knew.  Based off of the movie, not a crossover! Spork
1. Saturday

AN: So I was watching The Breakfast Club, which is one of the best movies ever. And then my thoughts wandered a little, and I thought of Spock. And then I looked at Allison. And then I thought of Jim, and I looked at Bender. And I went "IDEA!" And so this little beauty was spawned. Hope you enjoy it. XD

* * *

Saturday, March 24, 2250 by the Julian calendar. Stardate 2250.452. Barack Obama High School, San Fransisco, California. Dear Mr. Pike, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, and that what we did _was _wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you what we think we are, and what we think we're going to be. You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, with the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at 0700 this morning. We were brainwashed…..

* * *

The parking lot is empty, quiet. Leaves lay undisturbed by the slight, chilly breeze in the air. Barack Obama High School sits like a looming and grumpy cliff against the pleasant landscape of trimmed grass and trees budding with new growth. A hovercar, sleek and gleaming gunmetal-gray under the early-morning sun, slides up to the steps. Inside, a polished girl sits in the passenger seat, arms crossed over her chest as she glares out the window at the school. Her father sits in the driver's seat, looking slightly annoyed.

"I can't believe you can't get me out of this, Daddy," she complains, gathering her purse from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder. Her father sighs, his moustache bristling.

"I'm sorry honey. I'll make it up to you, I swear. But skipping class to go shopping is something that they have to punish you for, to show that you're not favored. They really don't want to make you stay here." She huffs, brushing her long hair over her shoulder and pulling her coat a little tighter around her.

"I know, but it's absurd! It's not like I don't get it; why do I have to stay the whole Saturday? It's so ridiculous." Her father gives her an indulgent smile, patting her on the arm.

"I'm sorry. Have a good day, sweetie." She rolls her eyes and gets out, slamming the door behind her. The hovercar pulls away as she tromps up the steps and inside.

Meanwhile, another hovercar sit's a few spaces away. It is more rundown than the previous one, painted biege. In this vehicle, a weathered woman sits in the driver's space and her son, curly-haired and obviously nerdy, sits hunched in the passenger's. A little girl is buckled into the backseat- daughter and sister. Clearly disapproving, the woman turns to her son.

"Iz zhis zhe first time zhis will happen, or zhe last?" Her son slumps against the door, looking timidly annoyed.

"Zhe last, mother," he replies, his heavy Russian accent a mirror of hers.

"Zhen get in zhere and use zhis time to your advantage." He sits up slightly, looking upset.

"We are not supposed to study, we are supposed to sit zhere and do nothing." Color flaring in her face, the woman sits up straighter and points to the school.

"Well you must find a way to study, Pavel!" The little girl in the backseat pipes up in Russian, her tone condescending,

"Da!" Frowning, Pavel nods and gathers his bag out of the backseat. As he lays his hand on the door handle, he looks back at his mother, despair clear in his eyes.

"Go!" She shoos him out of the car, and he reluctantly climbs the steps to the school, shoulders hunched in misery.

Another hovercar has pulled up and waits behind the beige until it leaves, and this one scuffed and white, built for power and racing, and to some, overcompensation. A tough Southern man sits next to his son, who wears the red letterman's jacket of the school. He looks angry, and his son stares down at his lap, frustrated. In their anger, the two look remarkably similar.

"Len, I messed up too sometimes, I did stupid stuff. The difference is that you got caught, Sport." Len snorts, turning to the window.

"Yeah, mom already chewed me out, 'kay?" Jaw tightening, the man looks like he resists the urge to do something rash.

"Do you wanna miss your match? Do you wanna blow your ride, Len? No one's gonna give a scholarship to someone with a disciplinary record." Baring his teeth at the glass, Len takes a minute to center himself. He says nothing more to his father, simply opens the door and snatches a paper sack off the floor, then slams the door and jogs up the steps to the school. After a moment, his father pulls away.

A lone figure strolls across the parking lot, hands shoved deep in pockets and scarf flailing in the wind as it sweeps through, stronger now. He wears sunglasses and looks like a blond devil in his long wool coat and dirty boots. Another hovercar, this one sparkling so brightly it can only be new, is trying to pull parallel to the steps, but must slam to a stop when this stranger crosses it's path. The figure pauses, dark glasses turned toward the windshield. Then he raises one hand and flicks them the bird before continuing on, climbing the steps with anger evident in the set of his shoulders.

Two Vulcans sit in the car for a moment before the driver, with graying hair and a stern set to his mouth, resumes driving and pulls up to the curb. He shuts off the engine and turns to the young man next to him. He is dressed darkly, and there is green liner around his eyes, which picks up on the slight color of it in the rest of his skin. Eyebrows tugged down, the older man says,

"Spock. You understand your error." His son nods, turning dark eyes to his father briefly.

"Then you understand what position it puts me in. This will not happen again." Even though Vulcans are not allowed to express emotion, he manages to express disappointment to his son. Again he nods, and then climbs out of the car without uttering a word. He hauls a swollen knit bag off of the floor and slings it over his shoulder, then parts his fingers in the Vulcan salute at his father. The motion is returned, and then the older Vulcan pulls away. Spock climbs the steps and makes his way to the library.

* * *

AN: So here's the first bit. I'll upload them as I finish, or the next day. They will be un-beta-ed, so review if you find a mistake.

So obviously there's Jim as Bender, Spock as Allison, Bones as Andrew, Uhura as Claire, Chekov as Brian, and Pike as Vernon. And I know some of you are like "WTF, WHERE'S SULU?" He'll show up, don't worry. :D Also, the beginning seems remarkably like the movie. This is sort of a parallel to TBC, really. I have the script from the interwebs, and am basing most of the dialogue and actions off of it. But there will be major differences, later on! Also, fail Russian dialogue is fail. And I suck at stardates. And Barack Obama High School? Well, I couldn't think of anything. And then I was like "...Don't they name schools after presidents and famous people and junk?" So, BAM. Obama has his own school. You know, in the future.:P


	2. Essay

AN: I lie. I figured that the last part was relatively boring, so I'd post this to keep interest. Anyways, in this chapter are first meetings, and Pike as a hard ass. -snicker-

* * *

The library of Barack Obama High School was a bi-leveled room, hexagonal and Chekov's newly-found haven. There are books, real, paper books, preserved in glass cases alongside the computer terminals. Sharply geometric stairs lead up to the upper level, where there are separate rooms for individual study, and the bottom level is a mostly open space. Although the room is meant for the warmth of study, it manages to give off a slight air of Spartan coldness, like the boy currently hunched and scratching at the table in the back. Six tables are laid out a slight distance from the main desk, shadowed by a tall abstract granite statue, and the boy gives off a clear air of "do not approach" in his solitude at the back desk.

A girl with nut-brown skin and long, dark hair is in a muttered conversation with a boy in a letterman's jacket at the table in front of him. She smiles warmly, and the boy leans toward her, grinning. They are both beautiful and obviously popular, and Chekov strains to overhear their conversation.

Then the library doors bursts open, and everyone jerks as in strolls the school delinquent. He is a blond, tall boy, with wide shoulder hidden under a long wool coat and bright blue eyes hidden under big dark glasses. He strides in with confidence, fingerless-gloved hands skimming over the front desk before returning to his pockets, this time with a few odds and ends he's swiped.

He strides up to Chekov, and the Russian nearly shrinks back at the intimidating figure the boy strikes. He pauses at the edge of Chekov's table, completely still for an unnerving moment, before he points at Chekov and then jerks his thumb to the table across the aisle from him. Chekov scurries to obey, and the boy plops into Chekov's abandoned seat and kicks his feet up onto the table.

It's silent for all of forty-six seconds before the door opens again, more calmly this time, and Christopher Pike, a teacher with a reputation for being very strict on his Integrated Math classes, enters, holding a sheaf of actual papers and a couple of wooden pencils. He stops in front of them and gives them a hard smile, exhaustion clearly imprinted around his grey eyes.

"Well, well. I'd like to congratulate you all for being on time." Suddenly the beautiful girl raises her hand, her expression prim.

"Excuse me, Mr. Pike, but I don't think I really belong here. I'm clearly not a defective." Pike blinks at her, as does everyone else. She stares back at them, nonplussed by their scrutiny. Pike raises an eyebrow but continues as if he hasn't heard her.

"It is now 0706. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to- yes?" They all turn to the back, where the dark boy holds up a piece of paper. Scrawled across it are the words "Eight hours, fifty-three minutes, fourty-seven seconds." The delinquent boy is clearly staring behind his glasses, and then says,

"Is that fourty-seven seconds since you wrote that, or since you started writing?" The boy stares with blank brown eyes, then puts his head down and shields it with his arms. Pike clears his throat.

"Right. You have until 1600 to think about why you're here. To ponder the error of your ways, you might say. You may not talk. You may not move from these seats. And you-" here he points at the blond, who whips his sunglasses up onto his head and puts on an innocently hurt expression, hand over his heart, "-will not sleep. Today, we'll try something a little different. We will write an essay, of no less than a thousand words, stating who you are and what you think you will become in life. Now I don't mean your name and where you live, who your family is and what pets you have. I mean you, as a person, hmm? And I do not mean one word, repeated a thousand times. Is that clear, Mr. Kirk?" He has passed out paper and pencils to them all, disregarding their small sounds of wonder at such arcahic tools, and turns to the blonde again, menace clear in his eyes. Kirk looks at the teacher form under his lashes, the animosity obviously returned.

"Crystal," he says, pronouncing the word slow and hard. Pike sweeps his feet off of the table in response.

"Good. Maybe you'll learn something about yourself, mister. Maybe you'll even decide whether or not you want to return here next week." They glare at each other in silence for a moment before Chekov shoots nervously to his feet.

"Sir, um, zhat, zhat would be a "No" for me, sir," he says, his hand straight up in the air like he's asking a question. Pike raises an eyebrow as the girl and boy at the front table giggle to each other.

"Sit down, Chekov," he says. Chekov flushes and sits gratefully. Pike visibly regains himself as he walks back to the front of the tables, and he points out the door into the hallway.

"My office is right across the hall. I will not tolerate any kind of monkey-business, you all hear me?" He is met with a relenting silence, then nods to himself.

"Any questions?" Kirk raises his hand, and Pike looks like he wants to smack himself for baiting him.

"Yes, Kirk." Hitching a cocky smile onto his face, Kirk props his feet onto the table again and leans back in his chair.

"Yeah, can I just bend over the desk and get this over with? 'Cause I have shit to do today, and I'd like to get the bribery out of the way, if you don't mind." There is a smattering of snickers, which Pike cuts off with a sharp look. His neck is slowly flushing red, and he glares at Kirk with renewed force.

"Do not pull this bullshit with me, Mr. Kirk, or I will get you suspended. You've also earned yourself another detention." Kirk grins, giving Pike a mock-salute.

"Yessir. Will you be defiling me then, sir?" Pike shakes his head and stomps out, his face nearly glowing with embarrassment. Everyone giggles to themselves, except for Spock. And then a bored, nervous silence settles over the library.

Chekov starts to play with his styus, clipping it on his bottom lip and tonguing the end. The girl sighs and leans her head over the back of her chair. Len begins to drum his fingers on his knee.

They all look up as they're suddenly met with a loud scraping noise. They turn, almost in unison, to stare at the back table, where Spock seems intent on gouging a hole through the table with his stylus. The scraping continues until Kirk clears his throat, and Spock jerks his eyes up, freezing like a deer in the headlights.

"You diggin' to China?" Spock stares, then shakes his head. He starts to reach for his PADD next to him on the table, but Kirk interrupts.

"Why don't you talk, huh? Do you have something against humans?" The rest of them start, turning to Spock with shocked eyes. Chekov says,

"What? He iz human, iz he not?" Suddenly Spock snorts and sweeps his hair back from his ears. The ends sweep up into a delicate point, and now that everyone's looking, they can spot the telltale signs; the sharp lines of his haircut, the distinctive eyebrows, and the slight green tint to his skin, especially in the whorls of his ear and at the edges of his lips. All Vulcan features, not obvious at first but clear to those that've seen them. Kirk pipes up again.

"So, what is it? Can you not speak, or are you just an asshole?" Spock frowns slightly, then snaps his stylus between two fingers with barely any effort and flings the pieces at Kirk. Kirk laughs, and Spock bares oddly feral teeth at him and turns pointedly away. Kirk looks intent on continuing, but they hear Pike's voice raise from his office.

"What's goin' on in there?" They all slowly turn back to the front of the room, sullen in silence.

After a few minutes, Chekov and Kirk start to hum at the same time. Kirk's sharp blue eyes snap to Chekov, who flinches and sinks deeper into his seat. He shrugs off his coat and doodles on his paper a little, and Kirk is busy removing his coat, the leather jacket he wears underneath, and his scarf. He's left in a blue flannel shirt with a tight black undershirt underneath, and his fingerless gloves. Still humming, he crumples his paper and tosses it at Len. It misses, sailing over his shoulder. The girl huffs and glares over her shoulder at him; he waggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. She sneers, disgusted, and turns back to the front.

Spock pulls out another stylus and continues to dig at the groove he's made in the table. It looks like a long, boring day, and a goal will at least give him something to do.

* * *

AN: Decided to cut there, for no apparent reason. Kirk's a big fat bully, huh? XD Next is the "What'd we do if we hafta piss?" bit. Review if you like it AT ALL, or if you see some kind of grammatical error.

Concerning Spock's obviously upset mental state, this will be explained in more detail, but that's where it diverges from the 2009 movie. But I warn you, it's necessary. So, as just a warning, this is AU. As if you hadn't figured that out already, though. XD


	3. Socializing

AN: Basically, Kirk's full range of assitude is displayed in this chapter. The bit about clubs, as well. Enjoy at your leisure. :D

* * *

Sighing heavily at the ceiling and overly warm in her jacket, Uhura heavily regrets at this moment that she skipped class.

The freak in the back is starting to get on her nerves with his scratching, and she's felt the Russian kid staring at her for the last five minutes. And then there's Kirk. He hasn't stopped humming, and she can tell he's doing it just to get under their skin. It's something grating and rough, and he keeps wandering slightly off-tune, making high notes so impossibly high he almost can't hum them, and low notes a low base that throbs in his throat. She sighs again through her teeth and mutters,

"I can't believe this is happening to me…" Suddenly Kirk shoots up, his clatter of movement attracting their attention.

"Damn! Anybody know what we're supposed to do if we hafta take a piss?" Kirk looks around at them, falsely curious. Then he shrugs, and they hear the sound of a zipper being pulled.

"Well, if ya gotta go, ya gotta go," he mutters. Uhura looks around, disgusted, and Len whirls, his anger finally evident.

"Hey, dumbass, yer not gonna piss in here!" Kirk waves a hand at him, the other curiously occupied.

"Shh, you can't talk, it'll crawl back up in there," he grunts, sounding like he's trying to concentrate. Uhura wouldn't be surprised if he's jacking off. Len looks like a dog with hackles raised, tension coiling through his stiff frame.

"You whip it out and I'm gonna chop it off!" Kirk grins up at Len, and they hear his zipper again. He sits back, relaxed now, and laces his hands behind his head. Even if he's an ass, Uhura can't help but admire the taut lines of his stomach, hugged tight by the fabric of his undershirt.

"Mmm, you know, you're really sexy when you're angry. I don't think I'd mind if you tried to touch my dick." Len grits his teeth and slams a hand onto Kirk's table. Uhura sees Chekov jump out of the corner of her eye, and the scratching stops for a moment.

"If ya piss me off, yer finished, fuckwad!" Kirk leans forward, manic delight lighting his eyes. His smile is poison and kisses, wrapped up in one. Uhura shivers involuntarily.

"Really?" Len leans away from Kirk, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared.

"Really," he grits. Kirk grins, and Uhura's pretty sure that he reaches under the table and adjusts himself. She snorts with revulsion and looks Kirk in the eyes, making her voice hard.

"Why don't you just shut up, Kirk? No one here is interested!" Kirk hitches an eyebrow and turns to Chekov, who's been watching the exchange with wide-eyed interest. His grin is dirty and sultry this time, his brow questioning, and his hand wanders up his own shirt with almost a nonchalant air.

"What about you? You interested?" Chekov's mouth falls open, and a blush flares high on his cheeks. Kirk laughs loudly, and they hear Pike shuffle in his office. It's still for half a second, and then Kirk crosses his arms on the desk and leans on them, smiling prettily at Uhura.

"I'm interested in you, Uhura. I think I wanna shut that door and get you im-preg-nate-ed, prom queen." Each syllable sounding like a dirty curse, and Uhura feels angry color rising in her face now. Len turns burning hazel on Kirk again.

"Keep it up, Kirk!" Kirk winks at him.

"Oh, don't worry, I will, unlike you. But what'd you do to get in here, huh, Sporto? Forget to wash your jock?" Len grips his chair back with white knuckles, his whole body tensed towards Kirk with intent to maim. Chekov speaks up warily.

"Um, hello? Maybe we should just write our papers…" He is soundly ignored as Uhura cuts in.

"Look, just because you practically live here doesn't mean you have a warrant to act like a total ass." Kirk puts on another expression of mock hurt.

"But it's a free country, doll face…" Len turns to Uhura. His face is schooled into a mere scowl now, and he looks determined.

"Don't even respond, Nyota. He's just trying to get a rise outta you. We shouldn't even look at 'im." They nod to each other, and turn to face the front as a unit. Kirk snorts with derision.

"Sweetheart, you couldn't ignore me if you _tried_," Even if Leonard doesn't turn, Kirk counts the tightening of his shoulders under his jacket a victory, and presses on.

"So, are you two boyfriend/girlfriend?" A pause of silence.

"Goin' steady?" A beat, again, of silence.

"Loooovers?" he croons, and is again met with a beat of silence. This time he lets a grin curl his face as he leans forward, whispering something sour and crude,

"Come on, Sporto, be honest. Do you like to slip her the hot…beef…injection?" Leonard jumps up, slamming his palms on the table again, and snarls in Kirk's face,

"That's goddamn enough, Kirk!" Kirk looks mildly bewildered, or maybe impressed. He opens his mouth, but they hear Pike scream from his office,

"What the hell is going on in there?" They still self-consciously, and then Leonard sighs and sinks back into his seat. Kirk gets up and hops onto the railing of the handicap ramp, swinging his legs and looking absurdly cheery. Uhura glares at him from the corner of her eyes.

"You know, we ought to shut that door. What kind of party can we have if Pike's sneakin' a peek every four seconds?" Again, this earns him something vaguely mathematical from Spock's PADD, but he waves it off. Chekov pipes up, slightly less timid this time,

"You know, zhe door is zhupposed to stay open." Kirk turns to him with a slight scowl.

"So?" Uhura scoffs.

"So, there are other people in here. If we don't want to get in trouble for having the door shut, we don't have to." Kirk gives her the stubborn jut of his chin and a nasty grin.

"Oh yeah? You know, you socialite types are so smart, you think you can just get out of trouble if you will it! Doesn't matter what you do, as long you're the prom queen!" She gives him a skeptical, condescending look.

"What would you know? You've no right to judge anybody, with the way you act." Kirk frowns, glancing at the ceiling as if in deep thought.

"So you get the right to judge people just because you act within the laws of society, then?" Uhura scowls to hide the fact that that hits deep, because as disgusting as it is, she _does _sort of think like that. In response her tongue flies off the handle, too quick and too sharp.

"You know, Kirk, you don't even count. I mean if you disappeared forever it wouldn't make any difference. You may as well not even exist at this school." Her words are a pure scathing stab, and for a moment Kirk's expression freezes, blue eyes fever bright and unreadable. She nearly wants to take it back, but then he rolls his eyes and teases,

"Well, then I guess I should just run out and join the football team." This earns him giggles, but he looks completely and unnervingly serious.

"Yup, and maybe the pep club. Student council, too." Leonard scoffs softly, slouching back in his chair.

"Whatever. They wouldn't take you." Kirk smiles indulgently up at the ceiling and hops down from the railing, leaning his elbows against it instead. But Leonard isn't done.

"Do you know why guys like you rip on ever'thing?" Kirk snorts.

"Oh, this should be perfect…"

"It's 'cause yer afraid." Kirk's eyebrows shoot up, and he claps with slow sarcasm.

"Oh, very good, very good! That's exactly it! I don't participate in circular games because I'm _frightened_! Why don't we give you a prize! Are you going to be a psychologist when you grow up?" Leonard glances up, scowling again, and Chekov adds to no one in particular,

"I am in zhe math club…"

"It's because yer afraid they'll reject ya, which they will. You don't belong so ya rip all over it to make it seem like you don't give a fuck."

"I am in zhe phyzics club too…" Chekov adds to the air, trying to lazily balance his pencil on the tip of his finger. Kirk stares, then turns to Leonard and says,

"'S'cuse me a sec, honeybunch." To Chekov, "Now, what the fuck are you babbling about?" Chekov jerks, surprised that anyone's heard him, but now that he's got their attention he's eager for it.

"I said I am in zhe math club, zhe phyzics club, and in zhe Latin club az whell." Kirk nods slowly, looking puzzled, then turns to Leonard.

"Do you belong to the Latin club?" Leonard looks vaguely uncomfortable.

"…Well, no. Latin's an academic club." Kirk looks surprised, then eagerly interested.

"So?" Leonard shifts, glancing at Chekov.

"Well, academic clubs aren't the same 's other clubs." Kirk's mouth makes a little "o", and he nods like that's very interesting.

"Ah, but see, to dorks like him," he says, nodding to Chekov, who flushes again, "they are. What do you do in 'phyzics' club, hm?" Kirk's imitation of Chekov's accent is cruel, and Chekov swallows heavily before speaking.

"We, ah, we talk about phyzics, and zhe, um, zhe properties of phyzics…" He can't bear to say more with Kirk's eyes intent on him, and turns away. Kirk nods as if that's the most interesting thing he's heard in his life.

"Right, so it's a little social…sad and demented, of course, but still social. Correct?" Chekov nods meekly. The air is empty for a moment, and Kirk is clearly waiting for him to speak again, so after a brief pause, he does.

"I guess, I mean, zhere are ozher children in my club and we, ah, at zhe end of zhe year we have a big banquet, over at zhe Hilton hotel." Kirk leans his back against the railing and puts his fist under his chin, nodding sagely.

"You get high?" Chekov blushes.

"Ah, no, we, ah, don't. We get dressed up, but, ah, no."

"So you've never gotten high?" Kirk asks, genuinely curious this time. Uhura snorts.

"Only burners like you get high, Kirk." But now Chekov is on a roll, and he's determined not to be overrun.

"And I did not hawe any shoes. So I had to borrow my father's, which was odd, because my mother does not like it when I wear ozher people's shoes. And my couzin Alekzey, he was high wonce and, and he ate all zhese weird foods and he, he felt az if he waz in the zhe, zhe "Twilight Zone", iz it?" Uhura giggles.

"Sounds like you, Kirk." Leonard sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Will y'all shut up? I got a game on Saturday and if Pike comes in here I'm gonna be in for it." Kirk gasps and jumps up, circling Len's table to get in his face, his smile cunning.

"Oh, my, a whole game? What ever would you do?" Leonard shoves Kirk's elbows off of the table, making Kirk stumble, and Uhura stifles a laugh with her hand. Kirk looks mildly upset for a flash of a second, but then brushes it off with another cocky smile.

Uhura has to stifle a sigh this time. Will Kirk _never _let up?

* * *

AN: Finally! That was long. I'll try to keep them shorter. I don't like writing long chapters; I feel like I keep repeating things.

To answer Rufio72s review (first one! love and kudos! bangin' penname, btw), yeah, this will have Spork in it. I realize the couples in the movie can be misleading, but Spock will not get together with Bones, and Jim will not get together with Uhura. That makes me feel all icky inside. But I have a really cute scene planned for Jim and Spock, and it shall be of epic squeeness. XD


	4. A Door to Detention

AN: Mostly from Spock's viewpoint this time! I adore Spock in Allison's role. I want to give him a cookie. Review if you want to give Spock a cookie too, hm? XD

* * *

Spock likes watching Kirk.

It's not that he finds the young man particularly attractive (this is true for most humans, anyways), it's the mobility. Vulcans, when not engaged in some activity, tend to fall into a state of absolute stillness. It's part of the reason why home is so quiet, which leads towards some of his animosity towards home. But humans, oh, humans! They move about for no reason at all, and it's one of the most engaging things Spock has ever seen. Ticks of nervousness, bouts of restless energy all form into small movements that he watches and records with avid interest.

And Kirk is absolutely full of nervous habits and telling ticks. Thrumming fingers or a jittering leg, thoughtful quirks of the mouth or brow. They speak of unnamed passions, and Spock is vaguely curious as to what kind of words it would take to unlock his control. But he doesn't have the heart for cruel words, at the moment. He watches the exchange between Kirk and Leonard with dark eyes and his chin resting on the tabletop, full of curiosity.

"What would you know about competition? You've never competed in anything!" Kirk blows air out in a modicum of exasperated humor.

"You're right, you know. I've never seen who can get the most ass-grabs in the shower, or tried to be the best at leaning up onto a guy from behind so I can reach between his legs. Is that the kind of competition you're talking about?" Leonard's mouth falls open; he's clearly affronted.

Suddenly Pike shuffles down the hall, probably to get a drink from the fountain. Kirk moves in a sudden burst of sleek agility to slide around the table and take the seat that lies vacantly between Uhura and Leonard. He folds his hands in front of him on the desk, mimicking Uhura; she quickly pulls her hands off the desk, glaring at him. He laughs softly as Pike moves back into his office.

When Pike's nice and quiet, Kirk gets up and moves towards the double doors of the library. Chekov's hands jerk up to his hair quickly; distress, Spock notes. It's clear in his voice when he speaks.

"There is not supposed to be any kind of monkey business, Kirk!" Kirk looks up, and in an impressive imitation of Pike's voice, says,

"Son, have you finished your paper?" Uhura looks back at Chekov, and they share an anxious look, which seems to surprise the Russian. Leonard starts to get up, then seems to think better of it and sits back down.

"Kirk, zhat, zhat is school property you should not toy with it, it does not belong to you!" Suddenly the door slams shut, and Kirk sashes back to his seat, giggling madly. Spock slowly begins to question his sanity. Leonard looks furious now.

"That's really fucking funny, Kirk! Come on, go put it back!"

"Yes, put it back!" Chekov chimes in. Kirk glares across the aisle at him in a surprising display of hostility.

"What do I look like to you, a genius? I don't know how it goes in, I only know how it comes out!" Uhura turns towards him, her delicate face drawn in true anger now.

"No, you're an asshole! Fix the damn door!" Her voice rises to a shout, and Spock can hear Pike moving outside. He gestures, trying to attract their attention, but they're squabbling in earnest now, voices and emotions rising to a tumult. He has to concentrate to mentally shut them out and focus on their conversation.

Pike startles them all by bursting in, looking stern and of course, angry.

"Why is that door closed?" he demands. He's met with silence, this one more rebellious, and oddly, more unified, than the last. He turns to Kirk with keen eyes.

"Why is that door closed?" Kirk shrugs, and his deception is perfect. Spock is blown, not for the first time, by how well humans can master lying.

"How're we supposed to know, sir? We're not supposed to move, right?" Pike glares, but is unable to find fault with Kirk's answer. He turns to Uhura.

"Why?" She manages to fake vague upset.

"We were just sitting here…" she supplies. Pike sets his hands on his hips, his frustration mounting.

"Who?" He's turned to Kirk again, who looks thoughtful.

"You know, I think heard a screw fall out…?" The others are quick to agree, but Pike notices his silence and, to his horror, turns to him.

"Who closed it?"

Spock has, never, ever lied to an authority figure. Well, besides his father. Those seldom few were what his mother called "white lies", the ones that caused no harm and sometimes even benefited both parties. Like his mother said, "They don't count."

But he respects Pike, so instead of lying, he makes an aggrieved noise and slams his head into the desk, his sweater flopping down over his face. He hears Pike,

"What's wrong with him?" He sounds both a little unnerved and modestly concerned. Kirk, surprisingly, speaks up for him.

"Um, he doesn't talk, sir." The conversation continues on as Pike commands Kirk to return the screw, and Kirk quips about imperfection of the world. Spock sneaks a glance up, and finds that Kirk has suitably distracted Pike; it's safe to sit up, slow and cautiously.

The teacher tries to prop open the door with a folding chair, and then with a large light table used by art students. Both attempts fail, and Kirk's constant jibes only serve to goad him. He comes back to the group to grit out at Kirk,

"You're not fooling anyone, Kirk! The next screw to fall out is gonna be you!" With that, he turns to leave, but Kirk mutters something foul under his breath. Pike freezes, then whirls back.

"What was that, James?" Kirk looks up, eyes murderous at the use of his given name. He says, very slowly, with each consonant snapping against his teeth,

"Suck. My. Cock." Pike's leash on his temper snaps then, and Spock imagines it as an elastic band, stretching tighter and tighter until it snaps, frayed ends flung back.

"You've bought yourself another detention, Jim!" Jim's head lolls on his neck, exasperation rolling off of him as he mutters at the ceiling,

"Christ…"

"That's another!" Jim jerks up, eyes harder now.

"Well, jeez, I'm free the Saturday after, but beyond that, I'll have to check my calendar, Chris!" Pike grabs the edge of Jim's desk; Spock thinks it's a close thing that he doesn't reach for the blonde's throat.

"Good! We'll keep going, Jim! Instead of prison, you'll come here! You through!" Jim looks really angry now, the emotion's sharp bitter taste crackling through the air.

"No, I'm not!" he shouts.

"I'm doing your mother a favor!" Pike shouts back. Jim laughs harshly.

"That's one more! You want another?"

"Yeah!"

"You got it!"

"Cut it out!" Uhura pleads. Her upset is not fake this time. Pike is breathing hard, maybe even winding down.

"You throught?" he asks Kirk, voice softer now. Blue eyes glitter fiercely, and lips pull back to display his teeth.

"Not even close!" Pike flares again.

"Fine, that's another!"

"You really think I give a shit!" Kirk starts to rise, his fists clenched.

"Another!" Kirk and Pike glare silently before Pike asks again, nearly spitting this time,

"Are you done?" Kirk cocks his head to the side.

"I don't know, how many is that?" Chekov inputs,

"Zhat is eight, including zhe one when Kirk asked if you would get it ower with, sir." Pike turns his whip to Chekov, who cowers.

"You stay out of this! I've got you for two months, Kirk, you hear me?" Kirk smiles wildly again, all teeth and bravado.

"And ain't I just tickled to death about it?" He plops back into his seat as Pike says,

"Oh, I'm sure that's what you want them to believe. Let me tell you something, Jim, you oughta spend a little less time trying to impress people and a little more time trying to make something of yourself. You might end up actually becoming something…like your father." And that seems to be the kick in the gut for Kirk, because his expression closes in to that same bright and unreadable thing that he wore when Uhura said he didn't matter. Pike issues a mild threat and then leaves, and Spock watches as Kirk's passion, wild and dark, swells, surges, and then pours over it's walls into his blue eyes, and Kirk lashes out, kicking the chair next to him and _screaming_,

"_Fuck you!"_

* * *

AN: Yah! Spock's viewpoint. :3 Thank you and loves to those of you who've reviewd! To Kaila, don't worry! I will so totally complete this, within like two, three weeks, at max! I actually have a chapter in reserve at all times, which is weird for me. Mostly because I fall behind, and because my middle name is Lynn, but it's pronounced "IMPATIENT". XD

To butterfly, thanks for the review, glad you like it! And endiahna, I'm getting to that! Background's will come out when they really start talking to each other. If you look, they don't know anything about each other until the scene in which Allison talks. So Spock opens doorways. :D

To Contort, thanks, and there will be shenanigans GALORE. :D I will give you a hint, anyways, since it's so far away (2 days, XD). Kirk and Spock find interesting things about each other in a room that begins with an N.

Oh! If anyone can guess where, I'll write you in a scene that you want (which will most likely not happen, because I'm gonna be picky with this), or a one-shot, of your choice. Sound good?


	5. Bathroom Break

AN: There's a reference in this chapter. First person to get it gets the same prize as last chapter, 'kay?

* * *

Leonard has been glaring at the clock for what feels like eternity. After Kirk's rage fest with Pike (and all rumors of those two fucking have been altered, so now instead of Kirk coercing or Pike forcing, it's just mutual hatesex), an uncomfortable silence falls. Boredom lays thick over them like a Georgian summer. He's determined to make the clock move faster with the power of his mind, but eventually he gets a headache and gives up.

Kirk is attempting to light saturated spit balls on fire with a an old-fashioned butane lighter, scorching the desk. Chekov plays with his pencil, and maybe himself. Uhura has kicked off her pointy little shoes and seems to be staring into space. And Spock's narotic scratching is in the background, of course.

Leonard strips off his jacket and the sweatshirt he wears underneath it. His grandmother, when she was still alive, liked to teach him all kinds of origami, so he takes his essay paper and folds it into a crane, then unfolds it and makes a flower, and then a complex praying mantis. By the time he gets to the dog, the paper is so worn and folded that he nearly tears a hole in it, so he makes a little frog instead and tries to make it hop across the desk.

Slowly, everyone loses interest. Spock's scratching slows, then stops; Jim puts out his spit balls and lets his chin rest on the tabletop. Chekov is the first to nod off, then Uhura, then Jim. He claims a valiant second place, and then gratefully nods off.

Leonard's dreams aren't usually made of crack, but maybe boredom has weird effects on his subconscious, because this one is _strange_. Kirk is a vaguely Latino boy that headbangs and smokes refer. Uhura is a white, red-headed fat girl. Spock is, freakishly, a _girl_ with manic eyes and possible "special needs". But the thing that freaks him out most is that Chekov is relatively unchanged, accepting that he no longer has an accent. And then Godzilla stomps in, eats everyone's eyes, and turns to Leonard and says in a disturbing little girl's voice,

"_Sliiiiide…_" Gradually, Leonard resurfaces from the bowels of unconsciousness to the sound of Pike's voice barking at them,

"Wake up!" He didn't move, and from the silence, no one else did either.

"Who has to use the lavatory?" He raised his hand without looking up. Unknowingly, they all did.

The slow troop to the bathroom wakes them all up, at least a little. Uhura trails dazedly down a side hallway, to the girl's lav, and Pike takes up space in the junction of the hallway so no one can try to escape.

Jim was nearly asleep on his feet as he propped himself up in front of a urinal. Leonard takes his own urinal, and Chekov slips into a stall far away from them all. Spock is digging noisily through his voluminous bag. Kirk glances curiously over his shoulder at the ruckus, eyes dull.

"What are you looking for?" Spock glanced up, then back to his bag, and after a moment he produced a skinny silver stick not unlike a stylus. He uncapped it and moved to the only mirror still intact in the boy's room. Very carefully, he began to reapply his acid-green eyeliner.

"Seriously? You're fixing your makeup? No one's gonna be lookin' at you in here." Jim somehow manages to make that sound only curious, not insulting. Still, Spock deems it worthy of a response. When he speaks, he does so without looking up, and his voice is a low rasp. It clears a little as he keeps talking, but it makes Leonard think that maybe Spock hasn't spoken in a very long time.

"There is a holovid series called _Alien Versus Predator_. Have you heard of this series, James Tiberius Kirk?" Kirk startles, blinking owlishly, and he quickly zips up his jeans and saunters over to where Spock was still tracing his left eye.

"Yeah, what about it?" Spock moves to the other eye and licks his lips slightly before speaking.

"Then you will that the Predators, theorized to be a primitive version of Klingons, marked themselves with the green blood of their prey. Vulcans were once a savage race, James Kirk, and we practiced a similar ritual." Here even Leonard pauses, slow horror cold in his gut.

"So…are you saying that stuff is blood? As in, actual blood? Vulcan blood? From dead Vulcans?" Jim's voice is staring to climb up the octaves, his expression more and more shocked. Spock pulls back from the mirror, blinking at his reflection, then caps his eyeliner and puts it in his bag. He faces Kirk with an expressionless look.

"Not at all." Here he smirks, just a little, at Kirk's flabbergasted face, then sharply turns on his heel and walks out. Leonard zips up his pants, takes one look at Jim's astonished mug, and laughs his ass off.

After Pike had herded them all back to the library (which was no easy task, because Nyota absolutely refused to be rushed), they gave up on the pretense of sticking to their chairs. Leonard stretched, trying to get a kink out of his leg. Chekov and Spock, who seemed to have something of an alliance going on, took residence on a desktop, though after his bout of speech the Vulcan seemed sullen, and so sat with his back to the rest of them.

Kirk was, of course, trying to get himself into more trouble by fiddling with one of the display cases, which housed a yellowing paperback in it. Uhura seemed wickedly amused that he was having such a hard time as she sat on the stairs to the second level.

"It's wrong to destroy literature, you know," she pointed out, her smile cinnamon-sweet. Kirk glared at her, plucking off his gloves and shoving them into a back pocket.

"This, this thing is not literature," he growled, gesturing to the book, "it's horseshit. It should've been destroyed a long time ago." Uhura cocked a brow and squinted at the label.

"What do you have against Stephanie Meyer?" Kirk paid no attention to her, cursing as he pinched his fingers. Leonard rolled his eyes and turned to Nyota.

"You grounded tonight? Scotty's supposed to be having this amazing party, since his parents went to visit relatives." Uhura sighed, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I don't know. My mom said I was but my dad said to blow her off." Leonard frowned; he never did what his mother told him to do.

"Come on, it'll be fun." She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully.

"I don't know, probably not." Leonard scowled.

"Why? Who cares what you mom says?" Uhura's lips pursed, and she uncrossed her arms only to cross them again.

"If I go, it's only because my dad told me not to pay attention to what she says. Then they'll get into this huge fight, and, ugh, it's just too much trouble. I hate dealing with their drama. It's like any second, boom! Divorce."

"Who do you like better?" Kirk chirped up from the floor, where he was trying to unscrew the base of the display case with a bent-up stylus. Nyota looked startled at his question.

"What?"

"Who do you like better, your mom or your dad?" Kirk asked again, pausing to glance up at her as if he thought she were stupid for making him say it twice.

"Jeez, I don't know. How would you even choose?" Taking her rhetorical question for a real one, Kirk grinned.

"Well, see, you pretend they're both dying, and you only have the resources to save one. Which one would you pick?" Uhura stared at him, horrified. Leonard scowled.

"Who would _you _pick? Oh, wait, that's right…" Leonard let it trail off scornfully, and once again the iron gates closed over Kirk's expression.

"Watch your fucking mouth, McCoy," he said, his tone low and warning. Chekov looked confused.

"I am not getting it. Do you not hawe a choice, Kirk?" Kirk looked up, his eyebrows reaching for the sky.

"You haven't heard this story, Chekov? I thought they studied Starfleet history in every country." Chekov looked bashful.

"Well, yes, but I hawe newer paid much attention to history." Kirk's smile was an ironic quirk of the mouth; he seemed slightly disbelieving.

"Okay, ah, well, my dad captained the U.S.S. Kelvin for 12 minutes, he saved the lives of over 800 people, and then he died. The end. Now I'm stuck with my alcoholic, deserting mother and her fat ass husband." There was a curious lack of bitterness in the words where malice ought to be, and Leonard's curiosity peaked, but he held his tongue. Unfortunately, Kirk turned to him anyways.

"Do you get along with your parents, McCoy?" Leonard grimaced.

Well if I say yes, I'm an idiot, right?" Jim grins, saunters to his feet and gets a little too close to Leonard, and the way his hips are cocked to one side is slightly distracting.

"You're an idiot anyways, but if you say yes, then you're a liar, too." Leonard gnarls his teeth, jaw tight; like a pot of water, his temper is starting to fizzle and hiss with more and more heat.

"You know, if I were you, Kirk, I'd watch my mouth. One of these days you're going to say something _really _stupid, and I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you." Jim lurched just a bit closer, right in Leonard's face. He leaned back from that grin and the obscene delight in those blue eyes, drawing himself up to the full half inch he had on the blonde.

"If you were me, I'd be ugly. And how many of your friends do you plan on using, exactly? Just so I know how many I'll be sending to the hospital?" Chekov made a distressed noise, but he was ignored.

"It'll just be you and me, Kirk." Kirk chuckled at that, pulling back again. He plopped down next to Uhura, who scootched away from him warily.

"You're awfully optimistic," he murmured, then turned to Uhura and smiled winningly. For a moment, he actually looked charming. Then he opened his mouth.

"You know, I don't actually know your name." Uhura raised an eyebrow.

"And?" His smile, for the first time, faltered.

"Well, I'd like to. You know, common courtesy, and the like." She snorted.

"You haven't shown anyone here any courtesy, so I don't know why I should tell you. But it's Nyota Uhura, anyways." Jim looked surprised.

"Nyota?" She frowned grumpily.

"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" Jim took on an unassuming look.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She didn't look convinced, and flipped him the bird.

"My! An obscene gesture from such a pristine girl!" Uhura looked affronted.

"I'm not that pristine!" Jim leered, invading her personal space.

"Really? Then are you a virgin?" Uhura opened her mouth, but Jim cut her off.

"I bet you a trillion credits you are! Tell me, have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?" Uhura looked furious.

"Don't make me gag!" Suddenly Spock let out a short, terse laugh, making everyone jump. Jim blinked, then turned back to Uhura, his voice quietly curious now as he pressed closer to her ear.

"Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off, hoping to God your parent's don't burst in?" Uhura looked uncomfortable now, almost in physical pain as one of Jim's hands crept to her thigh, and he edged just a bit closer to her on the stair.

"How about over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvins balled up on the front seat past eleven on a school night?" And then Uhura let out a little scream of disgust and pushed him, jerking to her feet with angry tears in her eyes.

"That's it! You're repulsive, Jim Kirk, and I hate you!" She stormed down the stairs and down to a seat behind the shield of Leonard's body. It was awkwardly silent for a moment as the two populars glared at Kirk, who picked himself up and looked like he was holding back giggles. Chekov chose to break the silence with his own input.

"My parents, I do not get along with them either. Their idea of parental compassion iz…dismal." Kirk turned to Chekov, looking slightly insulted.

"Dude, you are a parent's wet dream. I've seen your GPA, it's what, 4.1?" Chekov frowned peevishly.

"Yez, but zhat iz zhe problem!" Jim rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, man. What exactly would you be doing if you weren't out making yourself a better citizen, huh?" Leonard, who seemed to be fuming so badly he seemed incapable of speech, suddenly spluttered,

"You don't have to be such an asshole! How 'bout actually calling him by his name?" Jim rolled his eyes again.

"Okay. What's your name, kid?" Chekov flushed.

"Pavel Chekov." Jim actually looked sympathetic for a moment.

"My condolences." And when Chekov's humiliated flush grew darker, and Jim's eyes flashed for a moment with wicked satisfaction, Leonard decided to give up.

AN: WHEW. Okay, that one was hardcore. I know there are like, TENSE CHANGES OF EPIC FAIL. I don't care anymore. And I'm sorry I didn't post yesterday, but this chapter was a bitch. And, it gave me some time to get more reviews! :D

Rufio72, you won! You were the only one to formally guess natatorium, which is the right answer! So now you gets a prize! TADA! You're my lovely new favorite reviewer, especially because your guessing was so random. XD

Impressed reader, thanks for your review! Ellieandra, your review made me giggles! Hearts to you! :3 Thanks to AsHaYaM a2, whose random guessing also made me laugh. Kirai-Ninja, loves to you as well! NineKindsofCrazy, thanks for your review? (awkward silence) Thanks Netrixie, for reviewing, and pointing out that there are mistakes. Thanks LoverBoyWonder, as well! GothicCheshire, pretty please don't watch BC until it's finished, and then you can imagine the ST characters in the BC roles. XD

THANK YOU ALL, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE AND YOUR REVIEWS MAKE ME FEEL FUZZY INSIDE!


	6. Lunchtime

AN: So sorry about the wait! Friday I was kind of sick, and Saturday I went to this thing for college, and I barely got any time to write, thanks to my sister. Anyways, I think there's Spork in this chapter…? Meh. And Sulu makes his debut! Rufio72, my darling, you have yet to name your prize...Didja know, that all of this fic, including ANs, is over 11,000 words? 0.0

* * *

Chekov has come to the conclusion that while Kirk is a dirty, dishonorable bastard, he can't help but envy him. There's a reckless, impassioned magnetism to him that Chekov _wants_, but then Kirk says something to humiliate him, and he wonders; how can such a jerk be so appealing?

Quiet has settled over their little band like a wet blanket. They've taken up their seats again, if only for a place to rest than anything else. While Uhura's shoulders are still tight with anger, Spock seems unconcerned, and Leonard is only vaguely irritated. Kirk seems to sense that the boredom is dampening their anger at him, and he looks relaxed in his chair, if not completely disinterested.

The doors quietly open, and a familiar figure wheels a trashcan into the library. He looks up, black eyes surprised until he sees Chekov.

"Hey, Pavel. What're you doing here?" Kirk chuckles, turning to Chekov inquisitively.

"What, your boyfriend works here?" Chekov flushes and looks away. Hikaru Sulu, dressed in the uniform of a janitor, simply smiles.

"I'm his neighbor, Kirk." Kirk looks doubtful, but instead picks a new topic.

"So, Sulu, how does one become a janitor?" Sulu, emptying a trashcan, looks reasonably suspicious.

"You want to be a janitor?"

"No, but my friend Leonard here is interested in the custodial arts." Leonard glances at Kirk, scowling slightly. Sulu's brows are drawing together, anger building slowly. He crosses his arms, mouth set.

"You think I'm a joke, huh, Kirk? Some kind of fool, a peon, is that it?" Kirk spreads his arms and shrugs. Sulu's expression darkens.

"Well, I've learned some things from this job. I read your letters. I listen to your conversations. I go through your lockers." Kirk jerks, something like surprise flickering across his eyes.

"Yeah, you didn't know that, did you? I am the eyes and ears of this shithole, I tell you. And besides, I'm not going to stay here. I'm joining Starfleet." Kirk's eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and he lets his chair fall onto all four feet with that unnerving calm that settles like a cape around his shoulders.

"Starfleet? Let me tell you something, Sulu, you'd be better off here. At least then you don't have to sell your fucking soul to conform to regulations. At least then you don't have to bow your head to every big-wig, close-minded fucker that has a couple stripes sewn on his shirt. At least then you don't have to sacrifice everything about yourself to do what's right." Real, angry bitterness has crept into his tone, and everyone tenses. Then, suddenly, Kirk laughs, the sound unloosing everyone's emotions. They laugh, too, gratefully, except for Sulu, who simply shakes his and turns to leave. Just before he pushes his trashcan into the hall he shouts over his shoulder,

"That clock is twenty minutes fast, by the way!" Everyone groans, except Kirk, who smiles wickedly.

Boredom has settled again. Time ticks by, slowly.

The whistle starts with Kirk, of course. It's the school's fight song, and after a moment Uhura joins in, her song sharp and clear like a bird's. Leonard starts up as well, and Chekov catches the tune cheerily. Even Spock joins in, although his whistle is raspy and off-pitch. It's oddly reassuring that the Vulcan is bad at something (Chekov and Spock have been silently warring for the top ranking for the past three months, and he's started to think that there's nothing the Vulcan can't do), and Chekov smiles, tapping out the rhythm on his desktop. By nature the song gradually rises to a climax, and they're just starting to get into it when Pike bursts in, cutting them off with a glare. Kirk quietly whistles Beethoven's ominous Fifth, earning hastily stifled giggles.

"Alright, ladies, time for lunch."

"Here?" Leonard asks. Pike nods. Leonard shifts uncomfortably.

"Sir, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place-"

"You'll eat here and you'll like it, McCoy." Pike cuts in, but there's no real feeling in his voice. It seems to Chekov that the more he fights them, the more he wears himself out.

"Excuse me, Chris? Will milk be provided for us?" Kirk asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. Pike frowns and moves to say more, but Leonard cuts in,

"We're extremely thirsty, sir," and then Uhura,

"I have a really low tolerance for dehydration, sir," and back to Leonard,

"I've seen her dehydrate, sir, it's pretty gross." Pike inhales, his whole body swelling with air for a moment before he sighs, and then he seems slightly smaller than before.

"You," he says, pointing to Leonard, "and you! Hey, wake up! Come on, this isn't a rest home, get up!" Spock slowly raises his head, eyes hard and malicious. He jack-knifes to his feet and comes to stand next to Leonard, but his eyes track Pike's movements like a predator. Leonard looks nervous.

"There's a soda machine in the teacher's lounge," Pike says, his eyes cautiously on Spock as he jerks his thumb at the door. The two depart.

There's the slow, steady beat of Spock's steps and his own lazily slapping sneakers, and the way they echo off of the plasticrete walls makes Leonard's throat tighten and his heartbeat stutter with fear. He's reminded of horrorvids where teenagers let the crazy person walk behind them, like Spock is doing to him now, and how that usually earns them a knife in the back. So he looks over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the Vulcan, who stares calmly back.

"So, ah, what kind of soda do you like?" he asks, just to clear some of the tension. For a long moment Spock does not reply.

"I have only ever had soda once before, and therefore cannot form a preference." Leonard blinks, kind of severely astonished.

"What about, like, alcohol?" Spock raises an eyebrow reproachfully.

"We are underage." Leonard flushes a little and turns to look forward again. He's kind of hoping Spock will stab him in the back, if it'll get rid of the embarrassment. Spock isn't finished playing with his food, though.

"Is that why you are being punished? For illegally consuming alcohol?" Leonard flushes and snaps,

"Why are you here?" Spock is standing next to him now, walking in nearly perfect sync. That makes Leonard uncomfortable for some reason, and he purposefully shuffles his feet to disturb the rhythm.

"I believe the human phrase is, 'I asked you first'," Spock countered. Leonard would've been impressed if he wasn't so pissed at that. He leaned against the wall, radiating cool rage at Spock's unflappable calm. The lie that spills out isn't wholly intentional, but it isn't wholly subconscious either.

"I'm here because my dad and my coach think I'm a winner. I really don't think I am, but I have a lot of speed and strength, you know, like a racehorse. And-" Spock interrupts him with something like a puff of laughter, his eyebrows at a skeptical tilt and the corner of his mouth curled in a cruel and unnatural smirk.

"That's all very fascinating, but tell me, why are you _really _here?" In the second of pure rage that floods him, one little fact surfaces in a bubble of clarity, something he's forgotten; by the teachings of Surak, Vulcans suppress their emotions. And while Spock had put up an excellent front so far, he's far from emotionless- in fact, if Leonard didn't know any better, he'd say there's something deeply, deeply wrong with Spock.

* * *

Kirk has found a medical encyclopedia from the 21st century on his PADD, and while Chekov finds it vaguely interesting, Uhura looks like she wants to gouge her eyes out as he asks her,

"Hey, Nyota, do you wanna see what testicular cancer looked like? Pretty tasty stuff here." She sighs from her post against the statue, looking wistfully thoughtful.

"Do you know what I wish I was doing right now?" she asks, curling her fingers into a groove of the statue. Kirk regards her for a moment, then smirks.

"Careful there, Uhura, Chekov's a cherry." Chekov turns to Kirk, whose continued on without a thought.

"How do you think this guy rode a bike? I mean, he won the Tour de France and everything, but how do you ride a bike with nuts that big?" Uhura grimaced.

"God, you're sick." He smirks.

"Would you ever date a guy like that, Nyota? I mean he was perfectly nice, funny, smart, had a great 'car and was a great dancer, but had nuts the size of your head. Would you?" She frowned, turned halfway away from him, but didn't answer. Chekov broke Kirk's growing smugness as he finally realized what Kirk had said.

"I am not a zjerry!" Kirk looked doubtful.

"When have you ever gotten laid?" Chekov flushes, fiddling with a knot in the wood of the banister he's sitting on.

"I have laid, lots of timez!" Kirk's eyebrow was creeping up, more and more doubtful each moment.

"Who?" Chekov draws himself up.

"She still liwes in Russia, you would not know her." Kirk shrugs and asks,

"Okay, well have you actually laid anyone around her?" Chekov frowns, hunching, and gestures quietly to Nyota, who's still half turned away from them. Kirk sits up, interested now.

"Oh, you and Nyota, then?" Nyota whirls.

"What?" Kirk smiles perkily.

"Chekov's trying to tell me that you and he are apparently do the horizontal mambo!" She turns to Chekov, indignant.

"You little pig!" He flails slightly in his sudden panic, nearly falling off the banister.

"No, no, I was not! Jim said I was zjerry and I said I was not, zhat iz all!" Kirk rocks in his seat, grinning.

"Oh, so you weren't motioning to Nyota?" He flushes harder, humiliation burning hot in his stomach.

"No, you're lying!" Kirk disregards this.

"So you didn't motion to Nyota?"

"I-"

"You know, I don't appreciate this, Chekov." She crosses her arms and scowls, and Chekov has never felt so useless and pathetic under the eyes of a woman.

"Were you or were you not motioning to Nyota?" Kirk presses, and finally he breaks, swallowing past the embarrassed lump in his throat.

"I…yes, I was, but it was only because I did not want her to know I am a wirgin." Nyota softens instantly, and Kirk stares at him, fathomless. Chekov is sick to death of him, and snaps.

"What? I am sowry for being a wirgin, okay? Iz zhat what you want me to say?" Nyota crosses the small space to stand next to him, bumping his thigh with her arm as she leans against the railing.

"It's alright. I think it's okay for a guy to be a virgin." Kirk stares at her now, looking, for a moment, desperately lost. Chekov burns that look into his mind, vindictive satisfaction slowly burning up the anger. In a few moments, he's calm again, though still a little stung.

Spock and Leonard come back with sodas then. Kirk catches the one Spock tosses him without even looking up, and Nyota and Leonard draw together at their table. She pulls out a box of sushi; he has a paper sack full of much too much food. He lends Kirk a sandwich with an awkward sort of shrug. Kirk doesn't thank him for it.

Spock slurps his Coke noisily behind him, fiddling obsessively with his food. Chekov pulls out his soup, and they all eat in silence until Kirk finishes off his sandwich. Then he moves to Chekov's table, straddling the seat next to him to face Spock.

"You know, that's probably really unhealthy," Kirk inputs. Chekov glances around, and his eyes nearly bug out of his head.

Spock has dismantled his sandwich, a piece of meat flung onto the carpet and slices of cucumber laid out in a row. He's soaked the bread with Coke, it looks like, and is rolling it in slices of lettuce. He lays a piece of cucumber on the back of Kirk's unmoving hand, considers it for a moment, then plucks it back up and eats it. Chekov is reminded strongly of a vid he saw once, where a child with Asperger's syndrome played with blocks. Spock has that same sense of detachment about him, and Chekov doesn't think it's smart of Kirk to mess with the Vulcan.

"I do not care," Spock says finally, taking a bite of his…food. Kirk doesn't look surprised.

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone call you anything but Spock. Don't you have a last name?" Spock frowns, just slightly.

"I have two names. One is in Vulcan, and the other is human." Kirk frowns thoughtfully.

"Why?" Spock fiddles with his cucumbers again.

"One reason is that my father is the Vulcan ambassador to Earth. Another is that my mother was human." Kirk nods, puzzle pieces falling in place in his mind.

"Oh, I get it. So you're a half-breed." Spock jerks so violently that Chekov jumps. Spindly, deceptively strong fingers shoot out and just barely cup Kirk's throat.

"Do not call me that," he whispers, menace clearly written into the sharp lines of his body. Kirk, nut job that he is, grins, pressing forward into the grip.

"But what's your name, Spock? Is it human, or Vulcan?"

Spock withdraws slowly, not only physically, but mentally. He curls on himself and does not answer Kirk's question.

* * *

AN: A little bit of a poke into pre-Sporkness, then. Dialogue is lame. And unedited crap is unedited.

Review time! Reveiwer, I love threats, they make me feel all cuddly inside! Robin Silverman, whose review I found as I was writing this AN, do not take the name of Legolas in vain! XD Thank you! Kirai-Ninja, your reviews always make me smile! Rah Rah Ren, you were the only one who guessed at the reference. I should have made it clearer; there was an unnamed reference in, say, Len's dream? XD Thanks for guessing! Impressed reader, I can't wait for the ending as well! You're my anticipation buddy, thanks! Hesicasiel, I will, don't worry! I'm working on a bell curve, I think; all hype in the beginning, and then slowly wearing down, but I will so totally finish! AsHaYaM a2, thanks for the review! Contort, YOU READ MY F-ING MIND. GothicCheshire, I think I'm going to give you my first born child, your review makes me squee like no one's business. Like, GAH.

I love you all like Kirk likes apples, like Bones loves a good hypospray and unconscious patients, and like Spock loves an f-ing science experiment! AHHHHH! -fan girl death squeal- Also, the fact that the first page of my inbox was all reviews for this story made my heart go KABOOM, like a baby rabbit's. XD


	7. Prison Break

AN: I'm really excited! One of my reviewers suggested that I write a sequel piece to this where they all meet up again, and I've totally got it all compiled in my head. It's gonna be epic, and so I'm all the more excited for each chapter so I can finish and move on to that! Plus, the scene in the natatorium. It's gonna be like, a masterpiece. :D My Vulcan is only so-so, if you could help me out...? She basically just asks what his name is, btw.

* * *

"So, what's your name, Spock? Come on, you can tell us. We're all friends here." Kirk smiled, projecting as much charisma and charm as he could. Apparently, Vulcans didn't really like charm, because Spock let out an absolutely feral hiss and scooted away, eyes darkly threatening. Uhura spoke up from the front of the room.

"Come on, Kirk, leave him alone. Can't you tell he doesn't want to talk to you?" Gently considering, Kirk frowned.

"Hm. And do you think he's going to talk to you?" Uhura harrumphed, getting up from her seat and coming over to the table. She stopped at Spock's side and said,

"_Dungi tu fam var-tor etek ahm vu?_" Spock started, looking up at her in surprise. His response was wondering and fluid, and if Kirk didn't know what either of them had said, Uhura's smug smile at him was enough to guess by.

"See? It's not that hard." He frowned.

"You cheated. How the fuck do you know Vulcan?" She smirked.

"I'm studying xenolinguistics. I bet you've no idea what that means." Rolling his eyes, Kirk ticked it off on his fingers as he said,

"Study of alien language. Morphology. Phonology. Syntax. It means you've got a talented tongue." He grinned up at her, and was pleased that she looked a little pissed. If there was one think that Jim Kirk both excelled at and loved doing, it was showing people that he wasn't dumb, thank you very much.

"You know Kirk, I'm impressed. For a while there I thought you were just a dumb hick who only has sex with farm animals." He rolled his neck, her biting sarcasm practically a warm hug compared to how people usually treated him.

"Well…not only." Chekov snickered.

"So what is it, again?" Kirk asked Spock. The flow of syllables (mostly vowels) was a bit much, but he managed to remember the gist of it.

"And what about the human version? I bet your momma calls you that at home." Spock stiffened.

"My mother no longer calls me by any name. She is dead." In that indescribable second, Kirk's façade melted, and real sympathetic hurt passed over his face. After a moment he swallowed and said quietly,

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" Spock cut him off with a gesture. His eyes were suddenly, Kirk noticed, liquid-chocolate warm and deep, a soft sort of consideration in them. He swallowed again, reflexively.

Chekov was still eating, slow and meticulous, behind him, and he turned to see Chekov munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off. He raised an eyebrow, lightning fast reflexes claiming the sandwich from Chekov's surprised mouth.

"Peanut butter and jelly with the crusts cut off. How…quaint." The disgust was clearly evident in his voice, and Chekov flushed hotly, snatching for the sandwich.

Suddenly there was a hand on his elbow, a grip with quiet force hidden behind it. It was also unbearably warm, and his bones felt like they were softening into something sweet, like caramel.

Chekov took his sandwich back from his nerveless fingers with a grateful glance at Spock, who nodded.

Suddenly there was a slight rustling in the hall, and if they strained, they could hear a far-off phone ringing. Kirk scrambled eagerly to his feet, grinning. He peaked into the hallway, then turned back to them with an almost puppy-like excitement.

"Come on, let's go, Pike's gone!" There were reluctant glances, but Spock, who seemed to be gaining social ground at an alarming rate, got up and gathered his bag before taking his place beside Kirk. Uhura joined as well, looking a little pleased. Chekov hurried to join the majority, and then only Leonard was left, scowling fiercely. Finally he barked,

"If we get caught, I was brain washed!" and they set off.

Spock was hovering behind him and slightly to the left, radiating resplendent heat at his back. Chekov, Leonard and Uhura hovered behind, a slight jitter of nerves passing from one to the other.

"Where are we going?" Chekov asked, glancing around like a meerkat. Leonard glared.

"I don't know."

"Well what are we doing?" The glare intensified.

"I. Don't. Know." Chekov flinched a little, but after a minute they came to Kirk's locker.

"What are we doing?" Chekov asked quietly, and Leonard's eyebrow twitched.

"If you ask one more stupid question-" Suddenly Kirk's locker let out a loud, blaring noise and there was a faint buzz in the air as a scanner slid over them.

"Fascinating," Spock murmured, leaning closer. Kirk smirked.

"I've put some modifications on your standard locker, and bingo! Here's why." Kirk dug into the back of his locker, which was mostly taken up with what looked like a ton of stolen paperbacks. He pulled out a small bag of purple-white crystals, and Chekov gasped.

"Zhat is Sherlock! Zhat is an illegal substance!" Sherlock was an enhancing drug, which stimulated the brain and the senses without the horrid effects of brain damage. The only side effect was that it took massive amounts to create enough stimulation to have any kind of high, and in large enough doses, it ate away your liver.

"Relax, Chekov. It's only a little. Besides, don't dis it 'til you try it." He winked at Chekov, then closed his locker with a few flicks of his wrist, tucking the baggie into his pocket. Then he clapped his hands together, his grin nearly demonic.

"Alright. You guys ever been in the pool after hours?"

* * *

AN: Cutting it there because I really need to work on the natatorium bit, which obviously comes up next. I'm really sorry about the absurd shortness, but I need to get this out of the way because the next part will be like, mondo long. I will reply to the reviews next time, sorry my lovelies. School and this are really cutting it tight on my brain.

The name "Sherlock" was based on the fact that Sherlock Holmes used drugs such as cocaine to boost his cognitive abilities. Take that as you will, it was spur of the moment decision. The drugs won't actually come into the story until the chapter after next.


	8. The Natatorium

AN: Natatorium!

* * *

"What is taking so long, Kirk?" Uhura complained, inspecting her nails. Kirk, sweat gathering at his temples, huffed.

"Shut up, _Nyota_. They changed the fucking passcode, and it's gonna take me a second to-" Spock, sighing loudly, bumped Kirk out of the way with his hip and set his fingers to the buttons on the panel next to the door of the natatorium.

"I have a high A6 computer level," he explained, as with a whirl of taps he gained access. The door beeped approvingly, and Kirk's expression was reverent.

"Oh my god, you should be my partner in crime. We could do _anything_!" Spock rolled his eyes, and Kirk pushed the door open to the pool with a slight spring in his step.

The natatorium was spacious and muggy, the damp heat making everyone coo in relief. Uhura immediately shucked off her shoes, and in an impressive display of ingenuity, managed to shimmy out of her stockings without revealing anything. Chekov peeled off his sweatshirt and had to keep cleaning off his glasses so he could see past the fog. Those two took a spot at the edge of the pool, dipping their fingers into the warm water and talking quietly. Leonard propped himself against the wall, looking blissed out.

Spock hung back hesitantly, and Kirk kept his eyes on the Vulcan as he shed his shoes, communicator, flannel, bracelet and wallet, and of course, the baggie.

"Do you wanna swim with me?" He asked, still staring at Spock. There was the slightest tick of the mouth downward.

"I do not know how to swim." Kirk scoffed a little, but then quickly realized he was serious.

"What? That's nuts. _Everyone_ needs to know how to swim."

"Vulcan is a desert planet. I hardy understand how I would need to know how to swim on a planet where there is virtually no surface water." Kirk rolled his eyes, folding his things neatly into his shirt and then stuffing the bundle in one of his boots.

"Earth is hardly a desert planet, and we're, you know, currently on Earth. Don't you think it'd be a useful skill to have on a non-desert planet?" Spock looked away and didn't reply. Kirk, who wasn't one to either respect boundaries or tolerate silence, edged as close as he dared (which was to say, too close) and asked,

"_Well?_" He held out his hand. There was something new in his expression, a vulnerable question hidden in his eyes. He was asking for much more than to teach Spock a skill, surely; a sense of trust, of acceptance, was being gauged. Spock's Adam's apple bobbed, and then he hurried to Uhura and cautiously handed her his bag.

"Please do not break anything," he asked, a careful urgency in his eyes. She nodded, and then she took his sweater as he carefully pulled that off as well. Underneath was a gray thermal, and he plucked at it nervously before silently taking Kirk's hand. Leonard and Uhura exchanged unsure glances.

Kirk tugged Spock to the edge of the pool, the metal lip warm compared to the tile.

"Okay, so we're gonna jump in. Easing in is for wussyies," he explained at Spock's worried look, "It's better to jump in all at once, you know? Absorb all of the stimulus at one time, get acclimated." Spock nodded slowly, nearly biting his lip before consciously stopping himself. Kirk grinned.

"Ready?"

"What about-"

"No more questions! Come on, on the count of three." Spock was visibly upset now, eyes darting. Uhura and Chekov gave him a thumbs-up, and he steeled himself as Kirk counted,

"One," both of them loosened the tension in their bodies, a subconscious preparation for the jump.

"Two," Spock tightened his grip on Kirk's hand until his knuckles were nearly white, but Kirk showed no sign of discomfort as he grinned, squeezing back.

"Three!" The jump was quick, and the plunge of water and the surge of bubbles surrounded them. It was fairly warm for Kirk, but nearly freezing for Spock, and he surfaced with an almighty gasp before bobbing below the surface again. With their hands still locked, Kirk quickly showed Spock how to tread water. They hovered a bit too close to each other as Spock's teeth chattered.

"Th-This is h-h-h-"

"Don't strain yourself," Kirk said, smiling widely. And it was a real, genuine smile, excitement and joy glittering from his eyes like a faceted gem. Bobbing tenuously in the water and shivering violently, Spock had to resist the illogical urge to return the smile, and instead struggled to keep breathing and staying afloat.

Kirk was absorbing every little surge of violent warmth surging up his arm from where Spock's fingers meshed clumsily with his. It was odd trying to compensate for the grip while swimming. Seeing Spock with his hair slicked to his face, his lashes clinging wetly and the green wash to his skin growing more apparent in his lips and the tip of his nose. And suddenly they were too close, pressing perfect and awkwardly together, gangly knees and elbows bumping into soft organs. Soft breath on softer lips, noses brushing together-

Leonard coughed loudly, and Spock jumped like a skittish colt, untangling their fingers and swimming away with brisk, efficient movements. Jim floated numbly, and then turned very slowly to glare at Leonard with as much force as he could muster. The Southern looked briskly away, a hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

Spock was at the shallow end now, pulling himself out with the ladder as water streamed off of him. Now that his clothes clung to his damp body, Kirk could see exactly how absolutely _delicious_ he was. Tall and slim, graceful like a willow tree but built, a runner's build that made Kirk's eyes wanna do laps. And he was so symmetrical, so balanced in his movements that even if Kirk wasn't an artist, he has the sudden urge to capture that, to mark it on paper and press it into a book to keep forever.

And then Spock cursed with surprising vehemence, startling a laugh out of Chekov, and plunked down next to Uhura. She was already digging in his bag, and her hands resurfaced from the depths of the thing with a towel clutched in them. Spock took it gratefully and started toweling off, still shivering violently. Leonard was suddenly there, tilting Spock's face to see just how pale-green he was, the back of his hand gauging temperature from his forehead. He glanced up at Kirk sharply, grump written clearly on his face.

"Dammit, Jim, this water's much too cold for a Vulcan, he's probably going to get sick because of-" He paused, as every pair of eyes were on him. He flushed and pulled his hands back quickly, clearing his throat.

"Leonard," Uhura said, her eyes the only ones that showed a sense of calm, "you can tell them. It's not that bad." Fidgeting, Leonard gave a desperate little sigh and turned to Spock.

"I lied, earlier. I'm here today because I tried to hack into the school's secured medical database. I…I don't want to be a football player or anything my dad wants. I wanna be a doctor." There was a soft silence, and then Kirk grinned like a damned fool.

"What were you looking up?" Leonard frowned.

"The skeletal structure of Vulcans, damned stingy bastards," Leonard replied, kicking Spock lightly. That earned him an eyebrow, but Jim interrupted from where he still bobbed in the water.

"Then I think I'm gonna call you Bones." Leonard's gape was undignified and hilarious, and they all giggled. Jim swam over and hauled himself up onto the tile next to Spock, splattering water and making Uhura squeal. He squeezed most of the water out of his clothes and settled back, the chlorinated water already drying on his skin.

Reaching for Spock's hand was a surprisingly unconscious action, and the little flinch he got when he touched him was enough to jerk him out of it. He withdrew, a grimace of self-consciousness on his face.

"You are interestingly tactile, James," Spock noted absently, his hair fluffy after toweling off. It was an odd juxtaposition, the sharp angles of his face and the sharp angles of his words, with the head full of fuzzy static. Jim swallowed, rubbing his hand where the electric pulse of Spock's fingers still lingered as the Vulcan sat next to him.

"Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Are you aware that Vulcans are touch telepaths?" And every neuron in his body was suddenly urging him to freeze, scream, run and throw up all at once, the dark dark secrets laid at Spock's feet? No, no, no, not that, anything but Frank and the indents from his wedding ring, an extra stripe of black on the purple bruising, and what the hell. He felt like he was having a seizure of the brain or something, and then Spock's hand closed around his and despite the mental shriek of panic, he relaxed into the grip naturally.

"I can only read the thoughts and emotions on the surface of your mind. However, Vulcan hands are necessarily sensitive. In my culture, holding hands in public is rather akin to the human practice of kissing." There was a very, very slight smugness to that, and he was stroking Jim's fingers gently. It took him a long moment to process that.

"Oh! So you're getting off on this." Spock raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, didn't stop stroking, and Jim couldn't help himself. He laughs, the sound bouncing around the spacious room until he's gasping for breath and wiping at his eyes, the knot of tension that always rides in his stomach easing for once.

"Oh, sheesh. Don't do that, I'll bust a gut." Spock opened his mouth, frowned, then closed it again. Jim pursed his lips in the effort to not giggle again.

"I have a question concerning your thoughts, James, though I am reluctant to ask, because of the emotion attached to the thought." And there his heart went, but Spock brought his other hand up to his face and skimmed gentle fingers across his cheek.

"And therein lies the problem," he murmured to himself, sounding confused, "your heart rate has accelerated to nearly dangerous levels, and your emotions are in tumult. Despite my curiosity, I will not press the issue. Humans are surprisingly delicate." And then he pulled back, struggling to wring moisture from his shirt with only one hand. The look of quiet exasperation on his face was so oddly endearing that Kirk's emotions silenced themselves. He stared, unabashed, swarmed with a sense of hey, maaaaaaybe there was someone that understood him, that knew when he needed pushed and when it was just wrong? That he didn't have to hide, or be afraid?

Anger and frustration took over, and Kirk threw himself off of the ledge, back into the water, and swam down to the bottom, staring up at the reflections of light on the water and trying not to think.

* * *

They'd left the pool, reluctantly, Jim carrying his shoes in one hand and leaving a trail of wet in the hallway behind him, Spock only a bit drier. Uhura and Leonard were talking quietly, and for once they didn't exclude Chekov with body language, letting him walk between them easily. He didn't participate in the conversation, but smiled softly to himself, looking happy just to be included. Spock was looking through his bag as Jim dropped back behind the three of them, falling into step with the Vulcan.

"M'sorry." Spock looked up, surprised at the hard anger on Kirk's face. It seemed to be directed internally, though, as he visibly struggled for words.

"I didn't, I didn't mean to be such a spazz, I mean, I just-"

"There is no need to apologize, James. I have my own…There are things I would rather others did not know, as well. I accept those things about myself, and I like you despite your obvious mental instability." He said the last part with the barest hint of a smile in the way he blinked innocently at Kirk, and the blonde couldn't resist his grin. In an instance, he was coy, taking Spock's hand and lifting it to his lips to press a hard kiss to the knuckles, looking up at Spock's suddenly very green face through his eyelashes.

"I like you too." And Spock actually stopped walking, blinking too fast and flushed to the very tips of his ears. Kirk grinned and sauntered up to the rest of the group, joining in with the conversation easily.

And the moment went to hell as they heard Pike swearing from afar, stomping down the hall. They broke all broke into a run, excitement and the dull edge of terror driving them through the halls. It was suddenly like a maze- they nearly ran into Pike, then turned at the last second, and as they rounded a turn they heard Pike slip in the water with an almighty crash.

They reached an apex and stopped, confused. Leonard spoke up.

"Through the gym! We can beat Pike back to the library!" Kirk, face red, shook his head.

"No way! The cafeteria!" Leonard scowled and turned, jogging away. Chekov and Uhura shared a look, then took off after him. Spock stayed, eyes doe-wide and confused. He bared his teeth at Kirk and gestured for him to go, stomping- Kirk snorted and they heard Pike coming towards them. Spock seized his hand and tugged so hard they both nearly toppled, and then they were running, turning the corner and-

Leonard and the others were facing a iron gate, shaking the bars, but it was useless. They were trapped.

"Oh, nice going, Bones! You fuckwad!" Kirk punched Leonard on the shoulder, sighed, and started to jog back the way they'd come.

"Hey, stop, Pike'll catch you!" Uhura said anxiously. Jim turned to jog backwards, then paused and rushed forward to shove his baggie into Chekov's pants. He handed his boots to Spock, and then he was running away, calling out,

"Yeah, duh! I'm saving all your asses, so go when the coast is clear!" They all shared a worried glance, and when they heard Pike's voice rise, they all hurried back to the library, grouping at two tables and staring at each other anxiously.

"You know, maybe Kirk's not such a douche after all," Leonard said, so quietly that none of them were supposed to hear.

They all did anyways, and said nothing.

* * *

AN: HOLY MOTHER OF BITCHES. This chapter wanted to fuck me over so bad, but I conquered it, HA! The next chapter will feature the phone conversation between Pike and Winona, instead of going boldy onwards. :D Also, I'm sorry if this didn't quite meet up to the hype. I meant for there to be way more intense Sporkness, but I have to mess with their heads a little bit more first. XD

REVIEWS! REVIEWS ARE CLOGGING MY INBOX! I'm just gonna work my way up the list, starting with GothicCheshire's Ch 6 review; I like ellipses, they're so awkward. But I will be careful with my squees, so that you may has my baby. I'll try not to make him an asshole, but I dunno, I base an awful lot of Kirk's behavior on myself…:D And Spock's lunch made me gag a little when I first thought of it, but I kind of really like it that way. It fit's the character so well. :D Naunet Elvina Amunet, FOLKHWTJHKLERGJ! I love that you're loving this, and that someone actually recommended this to you! Holy shit, it's breached it's way off of the internet and is spreading by word of mouth! And I'm so doing a follow up, but it's gonna be so very much full of angst. Like, CRAZY WIZARD ANGST. Kirai-Ninja, you are such a sweetheart. You make my heart feel all swollen with buttery popcorn love. 3 AsHaYaM a2, thanks for your eagerness and review! An impressed reader, love the irony, and while I'm massively confused as to how Spock's behavior is inspirational, and you're welcome and thank you! Contort, Oh! Your reviews make me pee myself. That you start your review with "Ah, camel spit!" just rocks my world, so hardcore. And I happen to be taking a Psychology class this semester, and am basing a lot of his behavior on what I'm learning. :3 And I think I might like to steal that couch, and that patient, when you're finished. w0 And I love that you love my pwnage.

Chapter 7 reviewers, starting with Kirai-Ninja! I like Amanda too. She is win. And thanks for the review! GothicCheshire, nah, I'm thinking more hissing lizard. Like the one on Jurassic Park with the frill, that spits like, acid and shit. Because Spock kicks ass and will kill fat bitches. :D And your review starts the trend, most of you really seemed to like the odd Sherlock bit. XD MidnightSociety, are you a lurker? I don't think I've seen your name on here before. Meh. And there will teasing GALORES. :D BadLuck and Karma, your review has inspired me to be a bartender. XD Naunet Elvina Amunet, thank you, and sorry I'm being all redundant. :D An impressed reader, thanks! MickieHime26, I think I'll mention Sam in the next chapter, in the phone conversation, but I'm not gonna include Sam personally. Sorry, but I still love you because you reviewed! AsHaYaM a2, thanks, and I'm sorry I took so MUCH time. ShadowWolfDagger, thanks, and I'm glad that this inspired you to educate your friend. XD

THAT'S ALL OF THEM! I love, love, love you guys!


	9. Phone Call

The phone, an old-fashioned, practically historic model that has always worried Pike –cancer still doesn't have a completely foolproof cure- is ringing insistently from its place on the wall. The small screen that interprets the caller's data reads KIRK, WINONA, followed by a stream of numbers that he doesn't bother reading.

He plucks the phone off of the hook and leans against the wall, taking a breath before putting false cheer into his voice.

"Hi, Winona, long time no see." There's a moment of silence.

"Hello? Is this Principal Trudy?" He paused, awkward hurt welling in his throat. It hadn't been _that_ long, had it?

"No, this is Pike. Chris Pike." There was another pause, this one disbelieving.

"Chris! Oh my goodness, Jimmy didn't tell me- but, oh, it's wonderful to hear from you!" She at least sounded genuinely happy, which was a plus. He smiled despite himself.

"So was there something you wanted to talk about, Winona?" She made a bit of ambient, thoughtful noise, and sighed.

"Yes- you wouldn't happen to know where Jimmy is, would you? I've lost track of him again, that boy. But he _is_ a teenager." She sounded tired and frustrated, and he could perfectly imagine the way she would drag her fingers through her hair, the same way Jim did.

"Yeah, he's here, at detention? He didn't tell you?" She laughed a little.

"Heavens, no. He keeps to himself so much I hardly know when he's in the house." There was a problem with that, Chris knew, but it wasn't his business, not unless things were worse than he thought, so he didn't press it.

"Jim told me you got remarried."

Neither of them said anything more for a long moment.

"I'm sorry I haven't stayed in touch, Chris, but it was hard for me, and it was hard for my boys, too. Sam looked up to you so much, and he was so angry when we had to leave. I didn't want him to be disappointed again, and Jimmy...well. You know how he is." Chris wasn't buying her bull-crap pity story, not when he'd heard much of the same type out of Jim's mouth before, and it stung that she thought she could pull it over on him. He'd known her first, much before George had ever come into the picture, and even if he didn't know her in all the ways George had, he still knew her.

"Are you sure it wasn't because I reminded you of life in the service? Because I'm only in the reserve forces now, Winona, we can, we can still be friends…" But even as he said it, he knew that he wasn't being truthful either.

"No, Chris, that's not what you want. You didn't want it then, and you don't want that now." He was gritting his teeth, trying not to be angry, but it was hard. Winona had that same knack for stating hard truths as if they were the easiest facts that Sam had had, when he'd told two-year old Jim that Santa Clause didn't exist.

"So you'll take some other man, but not me?" And man, did his age hit him then. He wouldn't have been so pettily bitter in his younger days, but hurt had a way of festering and making people lash out, and he wasn't immune to that at all.

"Frank is a good man, Chris. He works in a good, safe profession, we don't have to worry about money, he's good to me and Jimmy-"

"And he stays carefully out of your business because he only wants one thing from you." He was surprised at himself, the hardness of his tone. Winona huffed irritably, and he heard her shifting the phone from one ear to the other. There was the steady sound of slow chops, too; Winona was cooking.

"Chris, I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've never lost someone you love in the way that I lost George. Frank is just what I need. You were what I wanted." He forces his the clog in his throat to be swallowed.

"I wanted you too. Still do. Always will. We could have made it work, you know."

"No, Chris. We couldn't." A silence, and then false cheer from Winona. He wanted to yell at her, to make her stop it, but couldn't bear to take her coping mechanisms, however flawed, away from her.

"So, Jim's there in detention? You're watching him, he's being good?" Chris nodded, sighed.

"As good as he gets. Mouthing off, basically. He's accumulated two month's worth of detentions, though. I don't even know why I bother; he's not gonna learn from them." Winona made a small considering noise.

"Well, he's not going to be able to serve them anyways. We're sending to a rehabilitation camp off-planet." He straightened, his grip tightening on the plastic phone.

"What, really? Why?" Winona sighed, wearily.

"Parole officer's orders. I really don't want to send him out. He's so scared of space, you know?" Pike smothered the urge to scoff. He couldn't imagine Kirk being afraid of anything, and if there was something that he should be afraid of, Pike imagined he would push past it and conquer it with his sharp wit and charm. Kirk was, now that he thought of it, almost a modern Caesar.

"Yeah. Well, I gotta go. I don't want to leave the kids alone too long, 'specially not Jim. He's a live wire, that one. Just like George." She chuckled, but there was a curious hard edge to her voice.

"Yup, and Sam is just like me, think first, jump at the absolute last second." He laughed, and found that curious hard edge in his own voice. They were breaching too close to George, and that spot was too sore for them, for different reasons.

"Alright then, Chris, I'll let you go. I wouldn't want those Rugrats to take advantage of you." He hummed a laugh, and she made a soft feminine approximation of the same.

"Okay, Winona. It was nice to talk to you. I mean, really nice. And say hi to Sam for me, okay?" She laughed, and they said a quick goodbye before hanging up.

He ambled back to the library, hands in his pocket and a wistful smile on his face. It was a wonderful thing, to hear from Winona after all these years. He'd only been working at this school for a few months, and he hadn't had Kirk in any classes; there'd been no parental interaction before this point.

They'd had a brief stint together, cooped up in his apartment in San Francisco. It was almost directly George died- Jim was still crawling when she showed up at his doorstep, holding little Sam's hand and crying desperately as she tried to explain herself. He hadn't let her. Instead, he accepted them unconditionally, converting his guest room into a nursery for Jim and Sam and letting her take his bedroom.

They'd stayed together for nearly three years, Chris almost like a father to Sam and Jim as they grew up. Those home holovids were still buried in the back of his desk; Jim, wandering out of his bedroom on Christmas morning in footie pajamas, blinking bleariness from his eyes and quietly demanding to see "Sanna's cwookie pate"; Sam showing Jim how to color Easter eggs, then crunching the shells and devolving into an egg fight; Winona pushing Sam on the swing as he laughed; Sam and Chris on a father-son day at work.

He'd taken a ground post, but Starfleet wanted him to fly again, offered him a Captainship. He'd been stuck. But then Winona had made the choice for him. She'd left, taking her boys with her back to Iowa. All that had been left were a few stray items and a note-

"I'm sorry Chris, but it's time. I have to go back home. Love, Winona."

And that was that. He hadn't been able to contact her or find them for thirteen years. And now Jim Kirk was-

Not. In. The library. None of them were.

"GODDAMMIT, KIRK!"

* * *

AN: So you guys are so amazing. Like, BAM. I want to cry happy apple tears when I read your reviews.

Replying to: Contort! My lovely, lovely chinchilla. And I mean that in the most affectionate way, because I myself am a chinchilla ninja. I love the adorable sporkness as well, and Bones fakeness. Is it bad that I love my own story? Nah. Pike will totally lock him in a closet, but in the most parental, time-out way possible. XD Spock will dump the contents of his bag…next chapter? And they will have a "HOLY FUCKING SHIT, THAT'S A LOT OF STUFF" moment. (SPOCK HAS AN OEDIPUS COMPLEX, OHHHHH, MY MIND. Nooooooo. Freud frightens me to my very core. He needs to be beaten by incest produced fetuses. But then again, breaking Spock down would be insanely fun. As would Kirk. And then they can go crawl into a corner and have mental recovery sex. While we watch. With popcorn. 3)

ShadowWolfDagger: That's the whole point, love. :3

Ellieandra: HOLY FUCK. -cries fake award show tears- I am so honored! Unfortunately, I can't come up with a definition off the top of my head….maybe tomorrow. But this is like, amazing. I want give you over-the-internets-hugs.

Kaila: Oh. I just had, like, a weepy grateful writer fangasm. I can't tell you how much your love means to mean.

GothicCheshire: Hehe! My sister started the whole "Get up outta my Kool-Aid!" thing. I will dutifully protect my little unborn fetus. No drugs, I swear. Though I must admit, I think I'm rather like McCoy in the drinking aspect. XD Jk, jk. And DUDE. Bender is seriously the most fucking wackjob, amazing character ever. If I ever met someone like that, I would love for them to beat the shit out of me. XD It sounds so very, very nice. I would love that. 3

Kirai-Ninja: Thanks for reviewing, and as for Kirk in trouble…-twiddles thumbs and whistles innocently-

THANKS FOR YOUR LOVE, SUPPORT, SPREADAGE, FREUDIAN SEX MONGERNESS, AND CERTIFICATES OF SYNONISMS-THAT-DON'T-REALLY-EXIST.


	10. Crime and Punishment

Pike found him in the gymnasium, perched on the basketball hoop as he sang at the top of his voice, one of the old "rock" songs on his dad's old, old PADD. The retro songs were oddly calming, for all the screaming that was in them.

When Pike pushed the door open he stopped, swinging his legs and grinning as he flung water over Chris, who was gaping up at him.

"How the hell did you get up there? And why are you wet?" He simply grinned wider and started whistling.

"Jim, Jim! Get down from there! You hear me?" He mock-saluted and adjusted his position so that he could drop down through the net, landing hard but managing not to stumble. He gave Chris a little-mock bow, but inside his heart was hammering in his throat- the others hadn't been caught, had they?

Chris caught him by the arm and started towing him, none too gently, out into the hall.

"Where are the others, Jim? I know you must've coerced them into running off, goddammit!" Jim didn't bother to hide the relief on his face.

"I didn't make them do shit, Chris. What did you expect? I offered them a chance and they took it. You're just sore 'cause now you don't have all your little ducks in a row-" Chris whirled on him, true anger in his grey eyes, and damn if he didn't flinch back from that, the instant instinct of fight-or-flight welling up before he shut it down. God, this was _Chris_, not Frank.

"Stop it, James. Stop it right now. You're in enough trouble as it is. I was just on the phone with your mother, she told me you're being sent off-planet." He ducked his head a little, grin gone. Even if he didn't act like it, he'd always respected Chris, and the raw disappointment stings a little.

"Yeah. So?" Chris just huffed and turned, still dragging him. His grip was solid but didn't hurt, something he wasn't used to at all.

"Just tell me where the rest of them are, Jim. I'm tired of your bullshit." He blinked.

"I honestly have no idea. I was the decoy, after all." Chris paused.

"What?" He smiled, impish delight apparent in his eyes.

"I lured you away from them. They're probably already back in the library, and you can't reasonably punish them." Chris' face was blank with surprise, and then he cursed savagely and picked up the pace.

Sure enough, the rest of them were in their seats, quiet and courteously docile. Pike shook him a little as he led him in, but the manhandling was child's play compared to what went on at home.

"I've caught Mr. Kirk, here, and I know the rest of you were out. However, I can't prove…anything…?" Spock had finally caught his attention, from where he sat next to Uhura, water dripping down his nose as he blinked innocently at Pike. Chris could feel a headache coming on.

"I'm not even going to bother with you, Mr. Spock. As for Kirk, well, he's lost the privilege of your company for the rest of the day." There were minor sounds of outrage, and the four others looked nearly mutinous. Kirk was inspecting his nails idly.

"Sure, whatever. Confine me if you wish, but you know how I am, Chris. I'm hard to pin down." He grinned hugely. Chris shoved him, just a little, releasing his grip.

"Get your stuff." Jim swaggered over to Spock, who had his boots perched on the table next to him. He removed most of the contents, his communicator being swiftly confiscated by Pike, and returned the items to Spock, who seemed confused.

"Keep my stuff safe for me, will ya, sweetheart?" he muttered, smiling at Spock flirtatiously as he pulled on his boots. Spock bit the corner of his lip into his mouth and nodded.

He leaned over and pecked Spock on the cheek before anyone could do more than stutter. He swipes his coat (dammit, he's cold now) off of a chair and stalks to the doors again, holding them open for Chris and looking expectant.

Chris and Leonard curse at the same time, and then blink at each other. Jim laughs, and Chris stomps out.

It's silent for a long moment, before Leonard turns to Spock.

"The school's fuck-up? Really?" Spock simply sticks his tongue out peevishly and does not reply.

* * *

Pike locks him in a closet. Jim is reminded very vividly of the one time he knocked over Chris' entire bookshelf and was put in time out. The comparison is ridiculous, and he takes up residence on top of an old filing crate with rampant amusement. Chris leans against the doorway staring at him with those indecipherable, silver-plated eyes of his.

"Jim, I don't know why you do this. You could be so much more than this, and you know it. So just…why?" He frowns, hardening. He wants to ask Chris to clarify, what exactly is "this", but he's tired of beating around the fucking bush.

"Because I'm not a golden boy like my dad, Chris. Or like you. I'm different than the perfect image you have of him, okay? And it's about fucking time you get used to it." Chris doesn't say anything for a long time, just staring at him. He seems sad, and Jim's paranoia ratchets to life.

"What?" he finally barks, and Chris shakes his head.

"I know you're not, Jim. You've been hurt, and you lash out. But you're the single most brilliant person I've ever met. I was explaining warp cores to you when you were three. You reprogrammed the school's entire computer network last year, from what I've heard. And now you must've hacked into the natatorium, just for kicks."

"That was Spock, actually," he admits with a slight smile. Chris smiles back.

"And now you're in love." He startles, staring. And from the way his throat tightens, his heart races just a little, his palms get sort of sweaty, tells him Chris isn't too far off the mark. He swallows and glares at his shoe. Chris chuckles.

"I know what it's like, kid. I didn't have such a great home life either. It's part of what drew me to the 'Fleet in the first place. But you don't have to shelter yourself with this image. You can be an actual person, if you want." He turns his glare on Pike.

"What would you know? God, you're just like mom. Trying to get inside my head, trying to figure out how I'm broken. Well you know what? Fuck you! Maybe I don't want to be fixed!" Pike shakes his head slowly and steps forward, trying to touch him. He yanks himself out of reach. Chris draws back and sighs.

"They was once a time when we could talk about anything, Jim." His eyes narrow to blue flecks, hard and so like George's.

"I was three. I talk to anyone, about anything."

"You know what I mean. You trusted me. What changed?" Jim simply stares at him, bitter resentment in his eyes. Pike turns, and as he's locking the door, he can hear Jim scoff.

"My mother did, Chris. My whole life changed." Chris walks away, and if he slams the door to his office a little harder than usual, well, there's no one around to hear him.

* * *

AN: So! A little change of pace in this author's note. I want to tell you guys a story!

I'm on stage crew for the school play, and this year we've changed our building strategy to be more efficient by having two teams, with two team leaders, under out stage crew God, Julia. And I have named my team U.S.S, Clusterfuck! My buddy, Matty, who is team leader, is Cap'n, I'm the bitchy CMO, my boyfriend is Chief Engineer, Nancy the brain is First officer, and for now we lack a science officer. . But one of the actors and mah buddy Caddy is a blondie, so she is my Nurse Chapel. And another actor, Miles, is Russian, and so I paid him a Kit-Kat to let me call him Chekov at all times. And since me and mah Cap'n are on -cough- _friendly _terms, there are so many medical-based innuendos during stage crew. It's the best time ever. And Beth, my fellow Trekkie, is on the other team, and she's SO JEALOUS. XD

ANYWAYS, here's review time!

Rufio72: YOU'RE ALIVE! I was starting to think you'd dropped off the face of the earth! It's nice that you're back, though. And it is totally cool for you to claim your prize now! I welcome the challenge. And as for your actual reviewness, Leonard's a party pooper. Like, obviously. But uhm, I totally don't want to tell you how warm you are about mouths…:3 I feel so totally special for your review. Especially because your epic rant about how long/not long your review was made me giggle.

Zhen13: Aw, shucks, you're makin' me blush! :3

GNOBNG: I spent like five minutes trying to figure out if your penname was in any way related to GORP, which saddens me in regards to my mental abilities. But thank you for your review, sorry, I kind of am sending Jim off planet, and it's gonna cause major "OH SHIT, NO YOU DIDN'T!"s. And everyone seems to be in love with Spock…tell's me I'm doing something right, at least!

Ellieandra: You need to stop making me, like, snort milk out my nose. Your reviews are too funny, and awesome. Love, love, love!

ShadowWolfDagger: Short and sweet, but thanks for the review!

Desdemonakaklose: Your review is flattering and enlightening. I like it. And I will definitively keep on keeping on, thanks!

Contort: I think so too, but I like making her look normal on the surface, so when she BLOWS THE FUCK UP it's even more of a "HOLY CHIZZ!" moment. And you know, it's odd. I friggin' took off of school today, and I found your profile, completely by accident. And I read your story! And I friggin' love it! Meat market? Crazy, slowly breaking Spock that throws himself to the wind in escape attempts? Scalp massages? The good times keep on coming. And as for the recordings…the next morning they'd be all like, "WTF, HOW DID WE GET ON THE NET?" and it would be of epic win sauce. XD

Cheaperkat: Thanks for the review!

Annikafizz: Don't worry about Jim. He gets one last fling with Spock, and then stuff all goes to shit. :D

GothicCheshire:…wtf? Don't send me two things, it confuses the fuck out of me. My brain can only follow one track at a time! And I read your review, and then saw that'd you'd sent me a note and I was like "NOOO! DON'T TELL ME SHE WATCHED IT EARLY!" but then I read it and it was all better. XD Bender from Futurama was actually named after Breakfast Club Bender. Little random trivia fact for ye. And it's okay to be BC illiterate; it's much worse to be ST illiterate. As for getting you into a habit…-giggle-. Winona is a special case, just like Jim. XD I like to make her loss of George rather like what it'd be like for Jim if he lost Spock, and so the damage…well, it's ridiculous, really. And so she's scared of Chris, because he offers her safety and love again and she's just like "NO, I LOVE GEORGE!' and, yeah. And Pike loves Jim, in that uncle way (MIND. GUTTER. OUT.), and so he'll basically put up with his bull no matter what. Thanks for your review, no matter how confusing it was!


	11. Sharing is Caring

You'd think, with all the technology humans have developed over so much time, they'd stop using drop-down ceilings.

The dust is so thick that Jim's sneezing instantly, and that makes it a little hard to concentrate on his balance and where he's going. He can feel his sinuses clogging and starts talking to himself, hoping to clear his airways as light seeps up from the tiles as he balances his weight precariously on them.

"So a Romulan and a Bajoran walk into a bar-shit!" Jim drew back carefully, trying not punch through the thin ceiling tiles. He sneezed violently twice, then cautiously moved on, "And the Bajoran orders thirty-eight Cardassian Sunrises. And the bartender says- FUCK!"

The ceiling tiles creaked and groaned before shattering like plaster, sending Jim plummeting to the floor. In the resulting dust storm, he started to sneeze uncontrollably. He was pulled roughly to his feet, and then something sharp jammed into his thigh, burning deep. He recognized it instantly as his Epi-Pen, and he cursed as someone withdrew it quickly.

"Dammit! I'm not going into anaphylactic shock, it's just allergies!" As his vision cleared of tears, he saw Bones kneeling before him sheepishly, the Epi-Pen slack in his grip. He could already feel the medication going to work, his heartbeat raising drastically. He punched Bones in the arm, then gripped his leg and groaned, his breath coming fast.

"God, do you know how much that shit hurts? It has to go into the muscle, Jesus!" There was a loud crash outside, and then Spock grabbed him by the arm and hauled him quickly down the stairs, and he dived under a table just as Pike burst in.

Spock scurried to his seat, accidentally kicking Kirk under the table. The blonde groaned again- Spock coughed loudly to cover the noise.

Pike stood staring at them- Uhura in paused in the middle of buffing her nails, bare feet up on the desk, Leonard feigning sleepiness next to her, Chekov glancing fretfully between them and the teacher, and Spock back at the table by himself. They all looked unbearably guilty.

"What was that crash?" he demanded, hands on his hips. Uhura and Leonard shared a glance.

"What crash, sir?" Kirk was in the odd position of half-crouching under the table when he noticed that Spock's lap was four inches from his face. One leg twitched slightly, heel tapping so softly on the floor he couldn't hear it. Mischievous thoughts invaded his mind, and he struggled against the urge to giggle.

"Don't play coy with me! I heard a-" Suddenly Spock gasped loudly, one hand slapping down on the tabletop. His knuckles were white, and his face flushed bright green. He glanced quickly up at Pike, swallowing.

"Excuse me," he said quietly, voice hoarse. Pike frowned.

"What the hell was that?" Spock blinked, drawing his hands down into his lap and surreptitiously pushing Kirk's head away from his crotch.

"I sneezed, sir." Pike raised an eyebrow, then turned back to McCoy and Uhura.

"I definitely heard a crash." Uhura shrugged.

"I didn't hear anything, sir. Maybe it came from another part of the building?" Pike rolled his eyes and huffed, glared at all of them one last time and then stormed out. Spock pushed away from the table quickly, his face stony.

"That was _not _humorous in _any_ manner, Kirk." Kirk crawled out from under the table, grinning sloppily.

"Yes, it was. And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it." Spock's flush, which had been fading, flared up again, and he glared at Kirk with so much malice it would've frozen a small dog in stone. He grinned wider.

"Don't worry, honey. There's more where that came from." He gave Spock a peck on the cheek and stood, brushing plaster off his clothes.

"Why are you here? You almost go caught. _Again_." Uhura rose, throwing down her emery board. Her disdain was clear. Kirk frowned.

"Well, it's nice to see you've learned gratitude, Princess. In case you've forgotten, I saved your asses. You all should be bowing at my feet, and instead I'm met with stabbing and frigidness." Bones scoffed.

"You would've shot yourself, if you could've seen your face. I'm surprised you weren't experiencing anaphylaxis. What are you allergic to, by the way?" Kirk snorted, digging absently through his pockets.

"Everything. You know, if I get stung by a bee on the way out, you've sentenced me to death. I only had one of those. And I thought it was in my-"

"I stole it. I didn't know what it was," Spock explained. Kirk glanced at him in surprise.

"Stole? Do you have anything else of mine?" A slow smirk spread over the Vulcan's face, and he crossed his arms with a coy, satisfied look. It was warm, yet intimidating, and Kirk's stomach fluttered at the sight.

"I have many things of yours. All of yours." Leonard was instantly on his feet, hands patting his pockets.

"My wallet! You little thief!" Spock's look hardened, sharp ice in his dark eyes.

"Not a thief. Curious."

"More like multi-talented. Give it back!" Spock looked towards the ceiling, almost like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes himself, then picked up his bag and pulled out a few items before upending it on the floor.

"Holy shit!" Chekov, surprisingly, was the one to pipe up this time as items, both foreign and familiar spilled onto the floor. It was mostly balled up clothes, but there seemed to be an abundance of styluses, small computer components, dried plants, scraps of heavily used paper, a miniature lute, a little makeup bag, and wallets. There had to be at least five, and they were all seemingly intact. Kirk, McCoy and Chekov took their's back quickly; nothing was missing. Uhura searched through the pile and found one of her decorative combs and her pantyhose.

"Why did you take these?" She asked. Spock raised an eyebrow imperiously and said nothing.

"You took my scarf?" Kirk asked, holding up his long red scarf. Spock bit his lip, fiddling with the small items he'd removed. One was a woman's small, white glove, another was a used tube of lipstick, and the third was a tiny red, wooden, lacquered box. A carving of a carnation, shedding it's petals, adorned the lid.

"What are zhose?" Chekov asked. Spock ran a thumb over the surface of the box, an odd tightness around his eyes.

"They were my mother's." After a moment, he set the glove and tube aside on the table and carefully opened the box. Inside was a pressed carnation, faded pink and withered around the edges.

"My father gave this to my mother when he proposed. It is a Vulcan custom to give your beloved a token of your appreciation, and flowers are highly valued for their rarity on my planet. She laughed, because of the absurdity. She always used to laugh." Spock picked up the delicate flower, head bowed as he spun the stem between his fingers. There was awkward, heavy silence.

"My father's been diagnosed with cancer," Leonard said suddenly, perched on a desk. He blinked heavily, obviously struggling.

"He's gonna die in seven years, maybe less. He's scared to death of doctors, and he doesn't want to let them help him. He hasn't even told me, because he's afraid I won't respect him or something. I overheard him on the phone with the doctor." Suddenly he laughed, bitterly as he folded and unfolded his wallet nervously. Tears dotted his eyes, but he kept blinking up at the ceiling, as if he could hold them back by sheer force.

"Isn't that messed up? My own father can't tell me he's dying so slowly and painfully because he's scared of the very people I admire. I mean, I could help him, once I go through school, but he would never even let me!" With a quiet shudder, Leonard scrubbed at his eyes and sniffed.

"My parents don't view me as a person. You know?" Uhura was curled in a ball next to Spock's chair, knees hugged to her chest as she braided her hair methodically.

"I mean, they use me. They buy me things, and then they volley for my affection to prove to themselves and each other that they're good parents. They're not, really. When they're not asking how the other treats me, they ignore me." Kirk scoffed, clear disgust on his face. It made his usually handsome face ugly as he sneered, blue eyes dark.

"Oh, poor you. You're parents spoil you rotten and then leave you alone? How ever will you survive? God, if only-" he stopped, snarled and punched the tabletop at his hip. Chekov scowled.

"What vould you know about her? What vould you know of any of us? We are only as we appear to you, and you to us." Kirk smirked cruelly.

"Oh, yeah? What about you? Do _your _parents mistreat you?" Chekov blushed.

"Zhey expect nothing less zhan greatness from me. Zhey are both astrophysicists, and they wish for me to follow in zhere footsteps."

"So they pressure you to get good grades. Boo-hoo."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Leonard burst, savage tears running down his face.

"I mean, we all have our pain, sure. But why do you have to rip on us like it's fucking going out of style? What, exactly, have you gone through to make you so fucking cynical?" Kirk's expression, hot and angry, cooled into hard vindictive humor.

"You want to hear cynical? How about how my father fucking died to save my mother and me? How about how, when I was three, my mother ripped me from the only kind of home I'd ever known and back to Iowa, where she preached about how her new boyfriend is such a saint, is going to change our whole lives, and then leaves me and my brother with him to be beaten? Yeah, don't look so fucking surprised. Have you ever been belted across the back, Leonard? What about punched? Hm? In the stomach, at age ten, for missing the bus home from school? And then your brother leaves you alone, runs away because he can't take it anymore, even though he promised to look out for you, even though- And then when you drive a car off of a cliff, barely escaping with your life because you're so fucking fed up with it, and you try to tell your mother what a fuckwad her boyfriend is, what does she do? She calls me a liar, and she marries the bastard. And then she looses herself in her stupid botany and forgets she ever had a son." It was quiet for a moment as Kirk struggled for breath, fingers ripping through his hair with frustration.

"Iz zhat true?" Chekov asked into the quiet. Kirk whirled.

"Yeah, it's fucking true."

"Bullshit," Leonard spat. Kirk lunged forward, fist raised, only to stop suddenly in front of the desk and yank his shirt up to his armpits. Dark purple and sickly yellow covered his ribs, ghosts of old bruises apparent all over his chest.

"Yeah? Well that mark, right above the fourth rib? That's shaped just like a man's fist, isn't it? Too big to be my own, and that shape, right there? It's Frank's fucking wedding ring, Leonard. Does that look fake to you?" Leonard stared, shock and surprise turning his face blank. Kirk pulled his shirt down.

"Yeah, that's what I fucking thought." And he stomped away, kicking over a stand of delicate magazines as he went, before seizing the railing of the second story staircase and jackknifing up it in a surprising display of acrobatics and strength. Then he stormed off, slamming a door behind him. Spock started to gather up his things.

"You shouldn't have said that," he hissed at Leonard, stuffing the last of his things in his bag before climbing the stairs and disappearing after Kirk.

"You really shouldn't hawe," Chekov muttered. Leonard cursed and put his head in his hands.

* * *

AN: You know, I'm surprised. No one's pressed me to know Spock's human name yet. I mean, aren't you guys curious?

ShadowWolfDagger: Thanks, and I hope, if you've watched it, that you imagined the characters from ST behind the characters from BC. XD

Contort: Wondertwins, unite! XD I'm happy that you're happy with Chris, and the love, and Bones being a petty little booger. Don't worry, Jim's life will be de-Franked. We just won't see the direct confrontation that will result in it. :D And recovery sex for the win! From Spock, yes, of course…-cough-

Ellieandra: While I regret tearing you from your studies, I also kind of love it. I'm happy that it's a highlight for you- I know I rely on fanfics to get my day going when it takes a dive. Thank you for your shiny, sparkly review, and your awards. I want to mock up some copies and hang them on my wall. XD And milk didn't really come out of my nose, I was being dramatic! Something we have in common, hurrah! And that's despicable, that no one replies to your reviews in the stories. What else should we do with all this awesome space? Sector it off, maybe. XD Love and luck to you as well, apologies for taking so long (THE HALLOWEENIES, THEY STOLE MY ATTENTION!), and don't get yourself in any trouble with those furies on my behalf! XD

full moon-werewolf-luver: Thank you! Thanks for spreading the love, and you might be happy again, soon. I'm thinking about writing an MIB version of ST, as well!

GothicCheshire: Eh, what can I say? I'm a mean person, and I fully admit to it! Glad that you love the denial- hope you like his explosion this chapter. XD Sorry, I'll try not to taint it, but, uh, I've read too many fics that veer off the beaten path…

Hey, where'd the rest of you go? Man, I really look forward to you guys reviews, but you're kind of spoiling me, as it is. By the way, here's some stats: 22,000 words, 11 chapters, over 60 reviews, and last I checked, over 5,000 hits. So whoo-hoo! I'll try to make some fan-art to commemorate the awesomeness of all this, but my last attempt didn't turn out so well. Love and happiness to you all 'til next time!


	12. What Comes Next

Spock cornered Kirk in a hallway, curled next to a vending machine and a knife in his hand. For one, terrifying, horrifying second, he thought Kirk was going to do something stupid, and his heart seized in his side, his breath pausing. He stopped, and Kirk looked up. He was carving something into the plastic side of the machine, and Spock took a deep breath of relief.

"What?" His tone was sharp, meant to cut. Spock ignored it and took a seat next to him.

"I am concerned about your wellbeing," he stated calmly, smoothing a crease out of his still-damp pants. Kirk paused.

"You'd be the only one." Digging deep into the side of the machine, Kirk carefully carved out a curved line.

"I highly doubt that. Christopher Pike-"

"No. Don't even go there." Spock sighed, an ache starting in his temples.

"If I do not, who will? You would not." Kirk tossed the knife to the floor, his teeth grit and eyes pained.

"Will you stop? I can't take it! I don't want you prying in my head, or, or trying to psychoanalyze me! Just-" Kirk slapped his hand against the floor, let out a short yell, and dropped his head onto Spock's shoulder. Hesitantly, Spock cupped the back of his neck with a palm.

"I apologize. I do not excel at…these things." Kirk laughed weakly.

"Yeah. Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?"

"You just have, but you may ask me another." Kirk smiled slightly, burying closer to Spock's warm body.

"Why do you carry so much shit in your bag?" Spock stiffened slightly, carding his fingers slowly through Kirk's short blonde hair.

"My home life is…unsatisfying." Kirk hummed, pressing his lips idly against the damp skin of Spock's neck.

"Everyone's home life is unsatisfying. It wouldn't be a home life if it wasn't. Why do you think people move away from their parent's?" Spock made a small noise, content.

"I suppose you are correct. But for a Vulcan…it is not normal to be so…angry." When Kirk looked up, Spock's eyebrows were pulled down, his mouth a thin, pale line. Everything about his body language screamed suppression, and it was so familiar to Kirk that he felt a dull ache in his chest, a sympathy hurt. He leaned over and pressed a brief, delicate kiss to the corner of Spock's mouth, and was surprised when Spock used the hand at the back of his neck to reel him in for a stronger kiss.

And of course, Chekov came around the corner at that moment, squealed like a pig, and quickly ducked away again. Spock broke away with an angry growl.

"Well, this is an unfortunate circumstance." Kirk snorted, squeezing Spock's hand before getting to his feet. The Vulcan followed obediently until Kirk paused, looking back at him.

"And I still want to know your human name, by the way. I'm not going to give up." Spock smiled. There was humor in Kirk's eyes again, and if the challenge of discovering Spock's human name amused him, well, he'd just make it all that more interesting.

"I would never imagine that you would. However, I believe my stubbornness is equal to yours." Kirk grinned.

"That's a challenge, then." They shook hands on it, even though Kirk used the chance to molest him. They followed Chekov's trail back to the library, Kirk hesitating at the door.

"We don't have to go back, you know. I can think of at least eight different things we could do," he suggested with a lewd quirk of the eyebrows. Spock opened the door, face deadpanned, and walked in.

Uhura has dumped her bag out in the absence of the others and is sorting her things into two piles, one for keeping and one for throwing away. The keeping pile is much smaller than the throwing away pile.

"What is it with girls and having too much shit in their purses, huh?" Kirk asks, holding up one of Uhura's hair clips. He clips it to his nose and she scowls.

"What is with you and having too many naked pictures in your wallet?" Spock asks. He has Kirk's wallet in his hands again, and is tilting his head as he stares at one picture. Kirk's hands fly to his pockets.

"_When_ did you get that?"

"When you had your tongue in my mouth," he replies blandly, and Leonard, who's also staring at all of Uhura's things, makes a faintly sick noise and collapses off of his chair. Chekov giggles until he snorts, then blushes.

"I would really like to know why there are so many," Spock questions again, and Kirk plucks at the clip moodily.

"I don't know. I asked her first," he points at Uhura childishly. She glares up at him while she roots in the bottom of her bag.

"I don't know, I guess I just never throw anything away." Kirk grins and turns to Spock.

"And neither do I." This earns a speculative eyebrow, and he snatches his wallet back and tucks it into his underwear, then turns to Chekov.

"Might I have my illegal substance back, please?" Chekov reluctantly reached a hand into his pants and pulled out the small baggie. With a tiny mock salute and a smile, Kirk took the steps up to the second level two at a time.

It's Uhura that follows first this time, curious to a fault, and Chekov glances around before picking himself up and racing after them. Leonard watches as Spock frowns at the ugly abstract sculpture, thinking hard.

"You gonna follow him?" He asks. Spock slowly shakes his head.

"Not directly. I need a moment to meditate." He continues staring at the statue as Leonard leaves.

There's one thing circling around Spock's mind relentlessly. Kirk has made numerous sexual advances on him, though not all of them appeared serious. He has no sexual experience, and was content to think that he never would, after the death of T'Pring. And to find someone that he honestly likes, intellectually, emotionally, and if he's willing to admit it, physically, so soon after his mother's death, when he can feel the gaps and scars still fresh in his own mind…it's almost too much.

Kirk makes him curious. He is violent and abrasive, cold and cutting, warm and seductive, terrified and terrifying. He is every worst and best thing Spock has ever thought of about humanity.

Huffing a sigh, Spock closes his eyes and slowly allows the question that burns quietly in the back of his mind surface.

Would his mother like Kirk? He can't imagine that she wouldn't. There are almost no similarities between them, at least not in personality, and yet the ones that count are the ones that would unite them. Kindness, though Kirk's isn't as evident as his mother's. Warmth and blazing emotions that seize them into action, and rigorously upheld morals. He's seen, at least that much, in Kirk's mind, and suddenly he aches somewhere he can't identify. A word comes to mind, an ancient and powerful word, and he grits his teeth and breathes through his nose because _no_, that can't happen to him, he can't be tied down like that, even if it promises so much.

He startles when he hears them laugh, and opens his eyes to drown the hazy hurt with the physical sensation of climbing the stairs.

* * *

AN: I'm just going to say now that I'm not really so happy with this chapter. I wrote most of it while sick, so anything bad can be blamed on viruses. And to confirm pretty much everyone's suspicions: yeah, Jim's being sent to Tarsus. Buckle up for epic angst, y'all.

FallChild92: I really just wanna see if anyone can pronounce that word, first of all. I'm glad that you like this, but I must demand: WHY HAS NO ONE SEEN THE BREAKFAST CLUB? Ugh. Thanks for the review!

Matty: No. I'm purposely keeping Chekov as a minor-ish character because you will abuse him if I don't. Thanks for actually submitting a review. 3

ShadowWolfDagger: Glad that you finally watched it! Thanks for the lovely review, and sorry, but you'll have to stick to the story to figure out what Spock's human name is- it'll be in the very last chapter. XD

Letsplaypretend: I LOVE YOU TOO. Your reviews remind me of my own, XD. AND I DON'T KNOW HOW I DO IT, BUT I'M GLAD YOU LIKE IT! And as for Jim: as I understand him, he's really uber frustrated and angry by this point. And Len keeps pushing and pushing and so he _snaps_, and all of his frustration kind of vents out like that. Anger and vindication and spitting rage, all at once. Thanks for the review, I will treasure it always! And you're totally not creepy, by the way. :D

Zhen123: Here it is, hope you like this chapter!

Hmmmm: Thanks for the review, but it kind of drove me nuts. You are not a Roman- use punctuation, please. .

Naunet Elvina Amunet: Thanks for your review, it's really encouraging on a day like today. 3

GothicCheshire: Glad that you like it. To be honest, I keep doing that crap by accident. It'd probably be a hypospray, but I like the idea of Jim falling out of the vent and then Bones just STABBING him. Epi-pens are mildly horrifying, and therefore hilarious. XD

Kirai-Ninja: Well, you have an awful lot of faith. XD I kid, I kid. Yeah, Jim's an ass. He deserved to fall out of the ceiling. And yes, Spock's bag is amazing.

Rah Rah Ren: Um, no. The reference in Chapter six was Fight Club, with the _sliiiide _line in Len's dream.

One of these days, the review responses will be longer than the actual chapter, and at that point I will cry. XD


	13. Lies Lies Lies

By the time Spock reached the second level, everyone else had been coaxed (surprisingly, by Uhura) to try some Sherlock. Then they'd sequestered themselves in a long, narrow room that was usually used for speech exercises. A white board ran along one wall, and Chekov stood at it with a blue marker clasped in his hand as he scrawled across the board, filling one, then two lines down the entire seven foot span of it.

"You see, iz wery simple," he murmured to the others, a huge cheesy grin on his face as he stretched to keep writing, though the equations were running up into a tight corner on one side. Leonard had his face pressed into the carpet and was howling with laughter, and Uhura and Kirk both looked rather tipsy.

"No, wait!" Kirk yelled, stumbling up to his feet and snatching the marker from Chekov. He erased a small "m" and replaced it with a capital one, rearranging some of the numbers so that it was shorter. He grinned, then turned and blinked as Spock opened the door.

"Spock! Awesome. Look, we're doing physics. Oh, I think Leonard stopped breathing." Spock poked Leonard carefully with his boot. The young man wheezed, so he deemed it safe to sit.

"Kirk," he murmurs, truly fascinated by the equation, "I believe you have discovered how to warp using cold fission inside the body." Kirk stared blearily at the equation for a moment.

"What? No. What the fuck are you looking at?" Sighing, Spock got to his feet and reached into his bag, pulling out a slim glasses case. He slipped a pair of emerald, horn-rimmed glasses onto his nose and peered closely at the equation.

"This," he gestured at a series of symbols, then picked up the marker at Kirk's blank look. He bracketed it.

This debate continued for a few long moments, though Kirk kept staring at him and trailing off, so Chekov took up the defense that it was impossible. Finally Uhura wailed and ran up, using her sleeves to scrub the equations off the white board. Chekov broke into very fake, pitiful tears and collapsed on top of Leonard, who was now chuckling dreamily at the ceiling fan.

"Ow, my intestinal tract," he griped, though he immediately started petting Chekov's curls. Chekov seemed to be trying to burrow into his stomach. Uhura decided to get in on the action and squirmed up to drape herself over Chekov's butt and Leonard's crotch. Spock sat next to them, allowing Uhura to tug his leg under Leonard's, and Kirk draped himself affectionately across Spock's lap, propping his head on the Vulcan's shoulder and pressing kisses to his neck when his attention seemed to drift.

"Hey, what would you do for a million credits?" Uhura asks into the quiet. Leonard laughs.

"Me? I'd do as little as possible." She huffs, elbowing him in the thigh.

"That's not the point, dope. You're supposed to think of like, the absolute limit. Like, would you drive to school naked?" Leonard considers.

"Spring or winter?"

"Either one. Winter."

"Front or back of the school?"

"Does it matter?" Leonard sighs.

"Yeah, fine."

"I would do that," Spock speaks up, surprising everyone. He's staring at them all with dark, hooded eyes behind his glasses, and Kirk slowly straightens in his lap.

"I would do anything sexual, and I would not need a million credits to do it." Kirk scowls fiercely, knotting a hand in the front of Spock's sweater as if he means to beat him up.

"You're lying," he accuses.

"Vulcans never lie. I am a nymphomaniac," he pronounces, his dark gaze a challenge to Chekov's gaping stare and Leonard's nasty glare. Only Uhura's gaze is carefully considering, and he resists the urge to wink at her.

"Iz your father aware of zhis?" Chekov squeaks, propped on his elbows.

"The only person that is aware of my…disease," somehow, the way that word rolls off of Spock's tongue sounds tantalizing and dirty, and Kirk tightens his grip just a little, "is my psychiatrist."

"And what did he do when you told him?" Chekov's eyes are like saucers, but he seems unable to stop himself from asking. Spock smirks.

"I had sex with him." Chekov makes a squeaking, scandalized noise as Kirk huffs.

"Do you have any idea how disgusting that is?" he barks, but he's flushed, and scoots off of Spock's lap hurriedly.

"I do not think that from a legal standpoint what he did can be construed as rape, since I paid him," Spock murmurs, almost thoughtfully. Leonard makes a gagging noise and rolls his face away, for all the world ignoring them.

"He's an adult!" Chekov protests. Spock shrugs.

"He is married, as well." Kirk scoffs darkly.

"The first few times-" Spock starts. Kirk perks up, angry color on his cheeks.

"You mean…more than once?" Spock nods, an eyebrow raised. Kirk makes a rotten, scowling face as if he's about to cry and shouts,

"Are you crazy?" Chekov frowns.

"Well, if he iz screwing hiz psychiatrist, obviously he is crazy…" Suddenly Spock leans forward, staring intently at Uhura.

"Have you ever done it?" She flushes slightly, settling her cheek more comfortably against Leonard's hip.

"I don't even have a psychiatrist," she says, clearly dodging the question and Spock's gaze.

"I meant with a normal person." She scowls.

"Didn't we already cover this subject?" Kirk, who's turned away, looks over, his blue eyes blazing.

"You never answered the question." She looks disgusted.

"I don't have to discuss my personal life with total strangers, okay?" Chekov shifts to gaze over his shoulder at her, brown eyes fawn soft with hurt.

"Are we still strangers?" he whispers, and for a moment they're all silent.

"It is a double edged sword, is it not?" They all start at Spock's question.

"A what?" Chekov asks, annoyed.

"If she says yes, she is a slut. If not, she is a prude. You want to, but you cannot, and when you do you wish you did not. Correct?" Uhura rolls her eyes.

"No, she's a tease," Kirk puts in, his eyes sharp.

"Yeah, a tease, definitely," Leonard remarks. She looks affronted.

"I am not!"

"She's only a tease if what she does gets you hot," Kirk mutters silkily, though there's no humor in his face. Uhura's face is growing red- she puts her elbow in Leonard's crotch by accident as she struggles to sit up. He yelps with pain.

"I don't do anything!"

"Exactly- that's why you're a tease," Kirk mocks. Glaring, she turns to Spock.

"Let me ask you a few things!" Spock narrows his eyes slightly.

"I have already told you everything on the matter," he says, slightly defensive. Kirk frowns at him thoughtfully.

"No! Doesn't it bother you to sleep around without being in love? I mean, don't you want any respect?" He smirks then, a very cruel and hard look as he leans forward.

"I do not sleep with people to gain respect. That is the difference between us, Nyota." She crosses her arms, ignoring Leonard's pained groans.

"Not the only difference, I hope." Kirk laughs softly, an angry and dark noise without any mirth.

"Face it, you're a tease, Uhura."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you _are_! You just said so yourself, sex is a weapon, you use it to get respect!" She frowns sulkily, knotting a hand in her hair.

"No, I didn't, he was putting words in my mouth!"

"Then what _do_ you use it for?" He leers, smiling with much too many teeth.

"I don't use it period!" There are tears growing in the corners of her eyes, and distress tugs at her delicate brows and mouth.

"So, are you medically frigid, or is it psychological?"

"I didn't mean it that way! You guys are twisting my words around!"

"Well if you'd just answer the damn question," Leonard grits out, still slumped on the carpet as he shields his groin from her flailing kick.

"Why don't you just answer the question? I told you," Chekov says, still lying on the floor. She whines softly, tugging at her hair.

"Yeah, just answer the question!"

"Come on, tell the truth!"

"It's no big deal, answer the question!"

"Answer it!"

"Talk to us!"

"Come on, Uhura!" And as voices pound at her from all sides, Spock's hot black gaze bores into her, and finally she cracks with a scream of,

"No! I never did it!" It is silence for two beats.

"Neither did I." Kirk gasps audibly as Spock looks at them all shyly, a silent apology on his face.

"I am not a nymphomaniac. I lied." With a sharp laugh of relief, Kirk slumps back into his lap, and Spock instantly moves to caress his neck. Meanwhile, Uhura is flushed ugly with rage as she cries.

"You are such a bitch! You did that on purpose just to fuck me over!" He raises an eyebrow, cool despite her fury.

"I would, though. If it is someone you love…it's alright." Kirk squeezes his knee, and some kind of silent healing takes place. Kirk is smiling warmly in an instant, his eyes closed, and Spock doesn't seem to give a fuck about Uhura's distress.

"I…I can't believe you! You're silent all day and then when you open your mouth, you dump all these tremendous lies all over me!" Kirk opens an eye.

"You're just pissed 'cause he got you to admit something you didn't want to." She heaves a grumpy noise a couple times and then collapses on her back. Kirk leans back a little more to look up her skirt. Her underwear is too plain to interest him.

"Fine, but that doesn't make it any less bizarre." Leonard suddenly cackles, and they all jump.

"What's bizarre? I mean, we're all a little bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others."

* * *

AN: This chapter is kind of two-parted with the next one. Hope you like it. -is too tired to be enthusiastic- And I know nothing of physics, so if you'd like to make my crud more correct, I'd love you.

Contort: Oh, my dear, that will come eventually. I just don't know when. And Spock will obviously give in to Kirk's irresistable charms soon. And then there will be EPIC SMUT. And tongues are funny, funny things. And Spock doesn't care about logic right now- he wants Jim's epic lovin'.

ShadowWolfDagger: Thanks, love. That means a lot to me, especially since I kind of don't like this one either.

Kirai-Ninja: -giggle- Thanks for taking the time to review even though your computer was dying.

letsplaypretend: Sheesh, I love your reviews. They make me squee inside when I see your name on the e-mail. Thanks for your...slightly backhanded compliment? Loved it. XD

GothicCheshire: EW. I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT. EPI-PENS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME AS IT IS, THANKS. But I still appreciate you're review, even if it was "lame", which it was not. XD

Kassandra-Nicole: I KNEW I HAD LURKERS, DAMMIT! You've proven this, thanks. And thanks for coming up with all those pretty excuses for Jim having a real Epi-pen and not a hypospray. Thanks for the review!

randomffname: Thanks for the review, it made me feel all fuzzy inside. :D

Signing off for now. This week is gonna be hectic, so I might not get anything out 'til this weekend. I'm sorry I haven't been updating all that recently, but once this week, and the play, is over, I'll get on it and finish this bitch! XD


	14. Break For Confession

"And how are you bizarre?" Chekov asks Leonard, who snorts and rocks back onto his butt, wiping at his eyes.

"I'm the exact juxtaposition of everything my parent's want me to be, without seeming like it. I don't even know how that kind of thing happens." He blinks thoughtfully at Chekov.

"Are you bizarre? Like, is there anything weird that no one else knows about you?" It's a deeply personal and prying question, but Leonard asks it without hesitation. Chekov flushes, and shakes his head, not meeting Leonard's eyes. Uhura, who is still wiping at her tears, stares at him. Her mascara is smudged down her cheeks, and Spock offers her a tissue. She takes it cautiously, but returns his small smile.

"Come on, Pavel. We won't tell anyone." He flops over onto his stomach, cushioning his chin on his folded arms. He glares at them all, almost accusingly, as they stare. Then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair quickly, considering the carpet. Finally he starts to talk in a clogged voice.

"My parents…zhey expect me to be brilliant. So I took Voodshop, because I zhought it would be such an ezay vay to maintain my grade point average."

"Why did you think it would be easy?" Kirk asks, oddly subdued. Despite the easy relaxation he and the Vulcan display, both are wary and attentive to his story. Chekov's face scrunches.

"Have you seen some of zhe dopes zhat take voodshop?" Kirk frowns.

"I take woodshop, and I'm clearly not stupid." Chekov flushes deeper and scrubs at his face. His hesitation speaks volumes about his discomfort, but he keeps speaking.

"Okay, so I am horrible person for judging people. But everyone does it! And I…zhere vas a project. Ve had to make zhis, zhis…ceramic elephant. And it vas like a lamp, vhen you pulled zhe trunk, zhe light was supposed to turn on. A child's toy. Vhen I pulled zhe trunk, mine did not go on." His lip quivers for a moment.

"I got an F on it. I've never gotten an F in my life." Silent tears burst over his lashes, and he swipes at them sulkily. Uhura reaches out, but he shies from her touch. All of them watch him regather his crumbling composure, sympathetic agony thick in the room.

"Mister Ryan gave me detention because he found a gun in my locker." Leonard gasps, and Uhura looks appalled. Both Spock and Kirk go very, very still, and glance at each other questioningly.

"No! Chekov, that's not worth it at all!" Suicide is a rarity these days, with a more competent grasp on psychological counseling, but it's not unheard of. Chekov slams his hands on the floor and pushes himself up, his expression wild.

"You do not know vhat it iz like! Ewen if I aced zhe rest of zhe semester, zhat iz still only a B! My parents would…" He gulps, ripping a hand through his hair again. As he wipes his eyes, they can see curly strands of it caught between his fingers.

"I had to consider my options. Failure…it iz not accepted in my house." Leonard, his face open and broken, shakes his head.

"Killing yourself is not an option, kid. You don't know what that does to a family, to take a piece out by force. Nothing…fits together anymore." They all glance at him. He swallows, glares at them all with absolute malice.

"My older brother couldn't accept the pressure my dad puts on us. He didn't think he was worth anything when his knee gave out. But I'm not gonna be like him. I'm not weak." The words are hissed, but there's a worn quality to them that shows they've become a mantra. Kirk clears his throat and sits up, awkward.

"I've thought about it. But Frank would win, and I'm determined to make him beat me to the grave. So I didn't try. But I know how you feel, Pavel." Uhura looks devastated, shaking her head.

"You…all of you? Spock, even?" He glances around at them all. Curious eyes greet him, and he closes his eyes.

"My…my mother. She…" He swallows thickly and bows his head. Kirk moves away slightly, sensing the turmoil. Leonard's voice is gentle and rough with emotion.

"How did she die?" Spock takes his glasses off, turning the frames slowly and carefully in his fingers.

"My father was attempting to negotiate a treaty for Vulcan and the Romulans. My mother…she is-" He stops, shoulders hunching.

"She was, so strong-willed. A Romulan councilman wanted a token of our faith. He wanted me to live on Romulus, learn their culture, and surrender my faith in Surak. For the sake of peace. My father thought it was logical and agreed- I did the same. I was prepared to do my duty, even if it meant the loss of everything familiar and dear to me. My mother objected very vocally, humiliating him in front of the council. That night, he sent an assassin to kill me. He reasoned that killing me would be the most surefire way to harm my mother. The assassin was human. He tried to stab me here, in the chest-" he touched his breast, then his side, "-but the Vulcan heart is in the side. It would have only injured me slightly. But she…my mother took his knife. She died, because of me." It is utterly still and silent, except for the quiet rasp of Spock's breathing and the tremors that shake his shoulders. No one utters a word as tears fall into his lap. With a choked noise, he hurls his glasses behind him- they shatter against the wall into billions of tiny, plastic pieces- and buries his head in his hands, knees drawn up around him to hide him from their eyes.

Kirk makes an angry noise and reaches in, pulling both of Spock's hands out and shoving his knees flat to the floor. Uhura hisses an urgent warning, and he ignores her soundly. Keeping those hands clasped in one of his, he tucks a hand under Spock's chin and tries to make him look up. The Vulcan shudders and yanks his hands back, dodging out of Kirk's hold. He only looks up when Kirk curses in pain.

"Ow, man. I think you broke my finger." Leonard scoots forward and takes his hand, flexing his index finger until Kirk snorts like a horse, his brow bent under the pain. Spock stares, wide-eyed.

"I…I hurt you." Kirk looks up and smiles.

"Nah. I've had worse." The smooth, unemotional façade finally cracks, and Spock's face scrunches with anger and misery.

"Why would you do that? Why would you try to help me, all I do is hurt people!" His voice cracks, and he whirls to his feet. Tears flow freely as he paces, gripping his hair. Chekov hiccups suddenly and says,

"Well, now I feel wery stupid." Spock smirks, seemingly despite his will, at the ceiling as he paces.

"You shouldn't- should not. I'm just dysfunctional." Chekov smiles and wipes his eyes.

"Dysfuncional, but brilliant. It's vhy I tried to boost my grades- I vasn't used to competition." Licking his lips, Spock stops and plasters his hands over his face, shaking his head at the ceiling. He groans.

"So you are telling me that I nearly caused another death." Chekov jumps.

"No! I just- it vas more zhan zhat. My intelligence…I zhought it vas all I had. But zhere are ozher things zhat matter." He glances around at them all and smiles. Despite their hurts, they all smile back. Leonard has taken a liberty and digs through Spock's bag. He comes out with an emery board and medical tape, which he uses to bind Kirk's broken finger. It's a neater binding than any other Kirk has ever had, and he says so.

"Why the hell do you carry medical tape?" Leonard marvels quietly. After a moment of frustrated movement, Spock whips his sleeves up to his elbows. Medical tape binds the thickest part of his forearms, stained green. Kirk looks up, his jaw set hard.

"That's a coward's way out. Replacing emotional pain with physical pain isn't right." Spock frowns, and it's so strange, so alien on his sharp face.

"I used to bite them, to draw the blood. But I think…" He paused, his eyes on Kirk's face. The expression on his face is something intimate and tender. The others look away pointedly.

"I think I will stop, after today."

* * *

AN: SO I'M TOTALLY SORRY FOR DYING. I feel like, absolutely horrid about abandoning you all. And for the epic morbidness of this chapter. But I'm going to finish this story before Friday! I SWEAR TO GOD AND DEFOREST KELLEY, MAY HE REST IN PEACE.

MidnightSociety: Thanks for the review, and I totally agree. Allison's mind games are the best.

ShadowWolfDagger: XD, Thanks.

Ellieandra: . LIKE, OMGWTF. I AM TOTALLY UNDESERVING. TDT But you would be awesome at giving out awards, my dear. And I totally love your review. I didn't realize the title was a song...:D. But now I feel especially bad for keeping away so long. I love you! In that totally platonic, I-already-have-a-girlfriend way. :D

Naunet Elvina Amunet: Thank youso much for the review, I was really trying to capture that conversation. Sorry it took so long, but thanks for being so understanding.

Kaila: XD Thanks for the review, and don't worry. Spock will bottom. :{D

letsplaypretend: ROFL. I love your quirky little reviews. They brighten my life. And I appreciate the criticism, but I feel that Uhura still has that thing that Claire had, where she wants to rebel on her parent's expectations, as does Chekov. So it's not that they really want to do drugs, it's that they feel obligated to snub their parents. And personally, I hate drugs myself. I think it's stupid as fuck, though I get why they do it. So, meh. And thanks for the MWAHS. XD

GothicCheshire: -shivers- YEAH, THANKS. But seriously, I think that if Spock was messing with someone, he could totally pull this off. Like a, er, psychological experiment, so to speak. So therefore "nymphomaniac" and "Spock" can totally go together. Spock is a nym-pho-maaaaan-iac. :P

Hmmmmm: Well. Firstly, I would like to say fuck you. I was not being ingrateful, hence the "Thank you" at the beginning of my review. I was merely pointing out the fact that I find it a little insulting when people can't write me a coherent review that I can read. I appreciate your opinion of my story, but I will not apologize after being bitched out unjustly.

Well, this has been a hectic week for me. Emotional drama coupled with eager excitement plus fluffy cuddling? Epic exhaustion. But I seriously will complete this story- two, three, four more chapters?- by Friday. You have my honor on that, guys, and my love!


	15. Our Society

After a time, they settle back into comfort with each other. Spock lays with his head in Kirk's lap, fingers clenched in his jeans as Kirk combs through his hair, fingertips exploring the delicate tip of a pointed ear. Uhura and Chekov slump upright against each other, and Leonard curls lazily on his side, half-asleep.

Chekov breaks the silence.

"Zhis is an odd time, but, ah, vhat, vhat happens on Monday?" Uhura frowns.

"What happens in school, when we see each other again, you mean? Now that we're friends?" He nods, and she deflates. Her brown eyes are sad as she regards him, his eager innocent expression.

"You want the truth?" He nods. She sighs, long and weary, and shakes her head.

"It'll go back to exactly how it was." Kirk grunts, his fingers stilling.

"God, Uhura, you're such a bitch!" She stiffens defensively.

"What, I'm a bitch for telling the truth?"

"No, you're a bitch because you know how low it is to do that to someone!" Crossing her arms, Uhura's chin juts pointedly in defiance. It's a fierce and beautiful expression.

"Okay, so if Chekov walked up to you in the halls you would say hi to him? Just imagine it, all your friends standing there, and then you'd rip on him to make them think you didn't actually like him. And what about me? You'd laugh your ass off and tell them you were sleeping with me so they wouldn't think badly of you." His eyes narrowed, Kirk matches her angry and defiant look with one much more dark.

"No, I wouldn't. I've been treated that way, and it fucking sucks. My friends know better than to pick on anyone I'm friends with." She flushes, flustered, and turns to Leonard.

"What about you? If Jim, or Spock for that matter, walked up to you in the halls, how would you react?" Leonard squirms, thinking hard.

"I…I don't know."

"Zhat is such shit!" They all startle at Chekov's vehement words. He's tearing up again, but he pulls his sweatshirt up over his nose and blows it. All of them grimace.

"You don't know what itz like, to be ignored by people who say zhey are your friends. I would never do zhat to you. To any of you." He sniffles heartily and collapses, slumping against Leonard's knees.

"That's because your friends look up to us," Uhura says quietly, and it's so matter-of-fact that they all ogle her, bewildered. She hunkers away from their stares.

"God, Uhura you're so conceited! Vhy, vhy are you like zhat?" Her pretty face crumples in agony, and she has one of those gasping-breath fits that means she's fighting off tears.

"I, I don't want to be like that, but you don't know, you don't know the kind of pressure people put on you-" Chekov laughs, a high-pitched, incredulous, and wholly unnatural sound. Spock grimaces and claps his hands over his ears.

"Fuck you, Uhura," he gasps, eyes streaming and bloodshot, "Fuck you!" And suddenly, for no apparent reason, they all catch onto his bleak humor and roll into a pile like puppies, laughing and wrestling a little. After a moment, they manage to catch their breath, and as Spock tries to wipe the laughing crinkles from the corner of his eyes, he says,

"Do you know why I'm here today?" They all look up at him from the floor- he's the only one sitting up. He grins, the expression so innocent and pure that they're all taken aback. Kirk stills, his breath caught in his throat. Even upside-down, it's beautiful.

"I had nothing better to do." It takes them a moment to catch on, but then they all collapse into a good-natured pile of mirth again, and any dissension fades. After all, friends are forgiving.

* * *

Spock, in his infinite wisdom and badass hearing, alerts Kirk when he hears the teacher moving through the halls. The rest of them manage to be herded downstairs- they're still suffering the effects of the drugs, and it has a tendency to instill lethargy. Spock allows himself a smile, and sneaks an enthusiastic kiss from Kirk before he climbs back into the ceiling.

Pike checks on them absently, not even criticizing them for sitting in a row on two desks pushed together, rather than in individual seats. He frowns slightly, but ducks off after a moment to go check on Kirk, presumably. They share conspiratorial grins.

Chekov and Uhura chatter about the janitor, Sulu, which instills a lot of blushing from the Russian. Leonard has been creeping steadily closer, staring with penetrating, inquisitive eyes. Finally Spock jerks to look at him.

"What?" Leonard frowns and plucks at his sleeve as he slides off the desk. Annoyed and curious, Spock follows him a small ways away.

"Look. I'm…concerned." After a few moments of raised eyebrow and more silence, Spock prompts him,

"What issue warrants your concern at this time?" Snorting angrily, Leonard glares at him.

"You and Jim are awful close. And I'm afraid for him." Cold blooms from Spock's side outward as his expression turns icy.

"You fear I will harm him." Leonard nods, and the cold liquid- so like the water in the pool, now that he thinks of it- spreads farther, lapping at his throat. He recognizes it as fear, after a moment.

"I mean, you weren't even trying earlier, and you broke his finger. And don't even get me started on the damage you could cause in a meld." Spock repressed an angry gasp as he turned intense eyes on Leonard.

"I would _never _attempt a meld with Jim without-" He chokes on all the angry words that this stranger could never understand, alien human face scowling at him belligerently.

"Puh-lease. You're what, eighteen?" Spock frowns.

"I'm twenty." Leonard starts.

"What, seriously? Shouldn't you be in college then?" Spock shrugs.

"My father felt it would more prudent for me to gain interaction with humans closer to my…level of emotional maturity. By human standards, I could have my masters degree in almost any subject." Leonard blinks.

"Well, I guess that makes sense. You mature slower, anyways." After a moment, he seems to regain his trail of thought.

"But you're only twenty. So you're experiences in both sex and psi abilities is limited, and I don't want you getting caught up in the moment and fucking with Jim's head. So just…keep your hands away from his face, you hear me? Oh, and here's a condom." He slaps the foil into Spock's hand, laughing when the Vulcan nearly drops it. After a swift and curious inspection, Spock shoves it into his pocket and sticks his tongue out at Leonard and turns, then pauses and turns back.

"Why do you care what happens to him?" Leonard's eyebrows shoot for his hairline, and he scratches his nose awkwardly.

"I- well. Someone has to. And he's a good kid, I guess, once you get to know him. We, we have a lot more in common than I ever thought." They stare at each other for a moment. Then they seem to come to an understanding with each other, and Leonard grins.

"Don't let him intimidate you, you green-blooded hobgoblin." After a slight smile, Spock listens at the door until he hears Pike go to the bathroom, and he sneaks off down the hallway in his socks.

It's easy to find Kirk, slumped in a mostly empty closet with a bored look on his face. As he shuts the door behind him and leans against it, blue eyes grin up at him.

"What're you doing, sneaking off to see little ol' me?" Spock nods, worrying his lip. Despite the absolution he has in his heart of what Jim means to him, Leonard's words circle like carrion birds in his head. He sighs.

"Leonard has expressed a concern that I will…hurt you." Jim frowns and flexes his hand, then pushes to his feet. His hands are cool against Spock's face, and he nearly pulls away, that instinctive fear pulling at him to make sure he doesn't hurt Jim.

"Heeeey. I'm not a delicate little flower or anything. I kind of like bruises from sex, anyways." He leans forward, his kiss sweet and warm. Spock pulls him close, so carefully, and he banishes the doubts in the back of his mind and surrenders to Kirk's pressing hands.

* * *

AN: So next is smut! I'm sure you all hate me for cutting it off there. XD To address an issue that was brought up last chapter, Spock will bottom. But! As a compromise, when I write the sequel and Jim and Spock get back together, Spock will top. Happy?

I'm not all that happy with this chapter. Mostly because I didn't think it out at all, and just sort of forced it out without editing at all or anything. Bleeeegh.

I'm thinking two or three more chapters, at which time I will respond to reviews en masse. And, I'll post the picture I drew of Jim for this story! -HINTHINTIWANTFANARTWINKWINK-


	16. A Promise, A Future, and an End

It wasn't until Kirk had his hips pinned to the floor, his shirts pushed up to his ribs and lips pressing lower and lower on his shuddering stomach that his mind caught up with what was going on. Cursing at the ceiling, he gripped Kirk's shoulder with a breathless,

"Stop, please." Instantly Kirk was hovering over him on hands and knees, his face flushed and hair mussed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Spock pinches his lips shut peevishly, trying not to feel annoyed. Endorphins seem to make his mood whip back and forth like the tide, apparently.

"We…have time. It does not have to happen now." Kirk frowns, worry lines bunching in his forehead.

"I…fuck. No, we don't. I'm being shipped off-planet tonight. My mom thinks it'll improve my character. Fuck." The world narrows itself into two very important points at that moment. First, they have no time. Either something happens now, or it may never happen. The odds of Spock staying on-planet long enough for Jim to return are dismal. And second, that he is in love with Jim. Thoughts of T'Pring, of caution and fear, melt.

"T'hy'la," he murmurs, brushing his fingers down Jim's face. His thoughts are chaotic and whirling, an amusing maelstrom compared to Spock's sudden calm.

"Um, what?" Toying with a strand of blonde hair, Spock indulges in a wistful smile.

"T'hy'la. It means…" Words tumble around in his mind, and he picks the three that Standard describes best, "Friend. Brother. Lover." Jim grins, surprised.

"Huh. Tahalya. I like it. It fits." Spock resists the wild grin that threatens to grip him at Jim's horrid pronunciation. Then he frowns, letting his fingers fall into a position that should be forbidden at his age, with someone like Jim.

"Jim. I…I wish to meld with you." Jim frowns, confused, and settles onto his elbows, bringing them much too close for convenient thought.

"I've heard of those. Don't ya…I don't know, rape my mind or something?" Spock flinches at that harsh word, withdrawing his hand slightly.

"No. It is a complete fusion of two minds. A bond would form, that could link us through the distance." Even as he speaks, he plucks at the always-tenuous thread of bond that holds him to T'Pring. A sharp tug answers him, but he begins to sever it, strand by strand. He feels her panic grow as Jim stares at him in awe.

"I…that's really weird. I mean, is it enjoyable?" He shivers, biting his lip as Jim traces his ear with such nonchalance. T'Pring suddenly lets go of their bond. The strands dissolve in a cloud of silver dust, and he feels light, excited by Jim's touch, even more so than before.

"Yes. Very. It is the utmost of sexual pleasures in my culture. But there is one thing. You cannot resist me in any way, or it may not work." The lie- omission, yes, but still a lie- burns on his tongue in a way the others didn't, and he swallows against guilt and doubt. Jim grins and kisses him.

"I'll do my best. How do you-?" Spock stilled him with his hands, then gently pressed against his psi points. A gentle flood of sensation flared, igniting his mind, and he took two deep breaths before plunging in with everything he had.

It was as if he'd been enveloped in every color Jim had ever seen, every memory pouring through a sieve into his mind. It overwhelmed him- he lost all sense of his physical body for a moment, dizzied by the outpouring emotions and instants of remembered sensation. He heard Jim gasp distantly, and then he felt Jim slowly adapt, his consciousness coalescing into a single point of gold. It seeps into him gently, a probe that is neither pleasant nor harsh, simply exploratory. It is a natural struggle against everything he's learned to hold his mind open, but he manages not to snap the bond shut until Jim probes at the always throbbing pain of his mother's death, all of the darker emotions that he has hidden in a black corner of his mind.

He's jerked back into his body by the warm tingling at the corners of his eyes, and nearly curses to himself. His control slips more and more these days, evidenced by his earlier display. Jim is staring down at him with steady bright eyes, and he doesn't quite squirm.

"That's intense," Jim mutters, trailing his fingers across Spock's, where they still rest on Jim's cheek. He licks his lips, arousal a sudden impatient burn in his body.

"Yes. But there are more…pleasing results that can be had." He grips Jim's belt loop and yanks him down off his knees, so their bodies align in a hum of touching skin and scraping denim. As they kiss, he delves once more into Jim's mind, but this time he searches for one thing, the knot of nerves in the human brain that control pleasure. He strokes it with a gentle touch, and Jim's hips jerk down into his, eliciting a breathy noise from him that he hides in Jim's kiss.

It's a natural progression as Jim pulls his clothing off with hurried hands and an eager mouth, the cold floor a slight distraction as Jim's hands explore his thighs, teasing skin that has never been touched by another person. He swallows and pulls at Jim's clothes, stupid in arousal, until Jim sits up and pulls his shirt over his head in a ripple of movement. So much alien pink skin, and in a flash he has Jim pinned and writhing as he shucks off his jeans. There are no undergarments, and he finds this oddly stimulating.

The decision to be submissive is a lightning-quick precaution, and he snatches the condom Leonard pressed into his hand out of his pants pocket and fumbles it down Jim's erection. He makes a move of intention, but Jim is grabbing his hips and panting, shaking his head.

"Wait, just wait a second. You can't barrel into this shit, you have to…prepare! I…fuck, you don't know anything about this, do you?" A coloring of uncertainty hits him as he sits back on his heels, and Jim grins a little shyly.

"Don't worry about it. I'll handle it." Jim throws his weight at him suddenly, and he falls back in a reflexive dodge. Jim catches the back of his head just before it bangs off the floor, and he lays back as Jim presses his weight onto him.

Jim is thorough and aggravatingly slow as he strives to kiss every inch of him. It isn't until Jim nuzzles against his hip and laughs huskily that he realizes his intention, and he wonders whether he should voice his discomfort. It's not that he doesn't want that from Jim, but humans have flat incisors meant for cutting…

He jumps in both panic and fear when Jim giggles and attempts to swallow his erection whole. Through the bond that shimmers with pleasant static, Jim digs impatiently through his mind, bumping clumsily against his nerves, looking for something. Panting, Spock struggles to relax and guides him towards what he's looking for.

Pleasure spikes hot, hard and fast when Jim finds the cluster of nerves, and the amount of stimulation he requires to ejaculate is pathetic. Swallowing quickly, Jim makes a contemplative face, but doesn't say anything. As Spock struggles to regain his breathe, Jim slicks a finger and presses slowly into him.

It doesn't hurt, but it isn't quite satisfying either. Besides orgasm, Spock can't really comprehend why people, especially humans, seem so obsessed with an action that isn't all that-

"Thinking like that around me will earn you the most painful orgasm ever," Jim murmurs in a cheery, singsong voice. Spock starts, both at the words and the second finger he adds.

"Was I projecting my thoughts?" Jim hums in agreement, and reaches up to tangle their fingers together. It's an oddly sweet gesture, and through it, Jim strives to tie their minds together.

It's easy, a slide of connection, a tangle of emotion that's so similar it could be either of theirs. Dark and light that merges to grey, memories that ring with familiarity. A press of fingertips and a clench of muscles, wet gasps in a lonely room. Loneliness that clings like cobwebs on everything, melting in the face of gold.

Spock comes to slowly. He and Jim lay on the floor next to each other, both panting and damp with sweat. Jim peels the now-used condom off and flings it to the ceiling. It sticks.

"That is disgusting," Spock says slowly. Jim giggles, rolling over and draping himself quite lazily over Spock. It's warm and they are both content in each other, even if neither of them will admit it. Finally, Spock forces himself to acknowledge the time.

"Jim, it is 0358 hours. I must return to the library." Jim frowns and leans over him again. In those blue eyes lies an understanding, and a promise. In a way, this afternoon, their broken parts have been traded. Not fixed, in any way, but now that the other holds the pieces, maybe they can make them fit back together.

They both go back to the library, holding hands and with their clothes slightly askew. Spock has completely lost one sock, and does not mind in the least.

Chekov, Uhura and Leonard are playing poker, and give them all lecherous grins. Jim blushes around his grin and starts giving Leonard tips, because he's losing ferociously but doesn't want to quit.

Pike comes in to kick them out a 1.63 minutes late. They all whine at him good-naturedly as they gather their things and bundle against the sea breeze that will no doubt be blowing through the city.

They walk through the hall in companionable, grieving quiet. Chekov pauses to say hello to Sulu, and the janitor and Jim share a joke.

Outside, five cars wait for them. They stand on the top of the steps and share forlorn looks. Uhura suddenly reaches out and seizes all their hands, lining them up. She digs through her bag until she surfaces with a pen and scribbles a com number on all of them.

"If you bitches don't call me within the month, including you, Kirk, I will hunt you down." With that she grins at them all, hugs Leonard and Chekov at the same time, kisses Kirk on the cheek and salutes Spock, then dashes down the steps and into her father's grey hovercar. After a moment, it departs. They all wave.

Chekov is next up, murmuring his goodbyes and grinning. As he trots down the steps, he turns back.

"Spock, you must teach me zhat theorem in AP Phyzics on Monday!" Spock nods and raises his hand in farewell. Chekov bickers with his mother from the sidewalk until she lets him in, and the beige 'car disappears.

Leonard frowns at the other two.

"You two fucking melded, didn't you?" Spock leans much too far into Leonard's personal space, then grins with feral teeth.

"Yes, Leonard, we did." Leonard snorts and backs up a step.

"If he's brain-damaged, I'm blaming you." But his eyes smile warmly at them. He accepts Jim's slap on the shoulder and returns it, then drops down step by step to the sidewalk. He gets into his father's 'car, but it doesn't pull away. Spock eyes his father's hovercar with reluctance and distaste.

"I find that I do not wish to leave your company." Kirk snorts, smirking. But his fingers tighten around Spock's, and there's anxiety written around his eyes.

"Look, I…I hope that this isn't permanent. The move to Tarsus IV, I mean. But if it is…" he glances over at the green and heavily battered hovercar that no doubt waits for him. Spock can see a blonde woman behind the wheel that can only be his mother.

Jim lets go of his hand long enough to pull the long red wool scarf out from under the lapels of his jacket, then steps forward and carefully drapes it around Spock's neck. In the mingling space, he can sense Kirk's worry.

"I will not forget you, Jim Kirk. We are bonded. Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched." The ancient words flow up from some primal part of him, and even if they are unfamiliar, they are appropriate. He latches their hands together again, trying desperately not to remember just the image of Jim's eyes, but the emotion in them, and the emotions they stir in him. Finally he reaches into his bag and pulls out the small, redwood case. He leans forward and kisses Jim tenderly on the mouth, slipping the box into his pocket.

They part reluctantly, but Spock doesn't look back as he descends the stairs. His father looks very blankly livid when he opens the door.

"Spock, what have you done?" He settles himself in the seat and closes the door before looking his father straight in the eyes.

"I have done something that makes me happy. I have bonded with Jim Kirk. And he made me talk." Sarek's surprise is enough to satisfy him, and he tangles his fingers in the warm scarf.

* * *

Pike finds the essay on the table after he's rearranged the chairs and is surprised- he didn't think any of them would remember it. In Chekov's spiky handwriting is written,

"Dear Mr. Pike, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we are and what we're going to be. You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours,

…The Breakfast Club."

* * *

AN: It's over and done with! My NaNoWrMo requirements are fulfilled, as this big fucker is over 30k words long! I'm sorry the sex scene sucked so very, very much, it's one of my worst and I hate it, but I wanted to get it out and done with. I'll go back through the whole thing and fix it later, and I'll also post my painting of Jim on my profile once I finish it. And I am epically sorry that you guys had to wait five days longer than I promised, but I didn't factor Thanksgiving into my calculations at all. Fail. XD

GNOBNG: Thanks for the review! Yeah, the sequel will try to align the ending of this story with the movie, so it'll be a bit difficult, but I'll do it. :D

Elliandra: Oh, wow. I totally phrased that the wrong way last time. I totally think of you as an awesome-cyber-friend-kind-of-way XD. Sorry about your epicly horrendous work conditions, I hope this chapter makes up for it. And I don't need any more awards, as flattering as they are! I'm running out of wall space for them all. XD Thanks and platonic love for all the wonderous reviews, Ellie!

givememybook: Sorry about the confusion, I'll try to work that out when I go through for editing. AND I TOTALLY HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU GOT THAT IMPRESSION. o.0; Thanks for the review!

Spork: Thanks! Hope you like it!

(From Chapter 14) Rufio72: Sorry about bottom Spock, hope it doesn't dissappoint. ;;n;; And you did mess me up, but it's all good. XD Btw, I'm still totally working on your one-shot.

letsplaypretend: Love your Chekov-themed review. XD I use shift because we took this manditory typing class in ninth grade and they taught us to use the shift key. XD

Autumn: I'M SORRY. I hope you'll stick around for the sequel, in which Jim will be submissive. XD

zhen123: Thank you so much, your review means a lot. That was one of the key points I wanted to address with this story, because you're right- they were totally too into their roles in BC. I appreciate that you picked that up. 3

Kaila: Thanks so much for your review, I watched BC like five times during this too. XD

GothicCheshire: Thanks for the review, and I guess that's one of those things we'll have to agree to disagree on. XD I think your use of the word "highly" was an unintentional pun. XD


End file.
